


Knives Out

by Kittog



Category: BLACKPINK (Band), Red Velvet (K-pop Band), TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Gossip Girl Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bullying, F/F, Gossip Girl References, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Threats, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, they're all trying to get at each other's throats, very rich kids, yerim will be a recurring pov in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22321000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittog/pseuds/Kittog
Summary: Spotted at the cafeteria: Little J. and Queen B., caught in a stare fight while Golden Girl watches from afar. Power struggle. Looks like our favorite triple threat is finally reunited. Beware girls… this screams for sweet revenge. Make sure you pick the right side...... and let the show begin.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Kang Seulgi, Hirai Momo/Im Nayeon, Jennie Kim/Park Chaeyoung | Rosé, Kim Yerim | Yeri/Park Sooyoung | Joy
Comments: 45
Kudos: 60





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Spotted at the cafeteria: Little J. and Queen B., caught in a stare fight while Golden Girl watches from afar. Power struggle. Looks like our favorite triple threat is finally reunited. Beware girls… this screams for sweet revenge. Make sure you pick the right side._
> 
> And let the show begin.

_“she blows on the window and lets her finger slide against the cold glass. a name appears._

_between each letter, she pauses, observes the curves of her work before letting her finger meet the see-through surface again._

_j_

_she isn’t quite sure why she’s in this car. she knows where she’s going, of course, but she can’t tell whether she wants to be there or not._

_e_

_she remembers not many liked her aura there._

_n_

_she hated it there, too. never felt safe, never felt loved._

_i_

_she remembers. the day she let the anger and the greed take over._

_e_

_she stares at her name for a while. it looked pretty. she smiles, at last. pretty. that’s all she needed to be.”_

“Miss Jennie? We shall arrive at Constance soon.” 

Jennie closed her journal gently, making sure none of her memories would fall out of it. Some polaroids were sticking out between the pages, some of which were fading away, as they had spent too many days taped right above her bed, along with some black inked doodles from french class. She took them all off two nights before her departure, as she always do, before placing them against the dark hard cover. The souvenirs would stay with her at all times. 

You could barely see what she had written on the window anymore. Thee mist, her name, the polaroids, everything was slowly fading away. 

She knew way too well why she was heading off to Constance again. She didn’t have the choice. No one would let her have one. 

For a moment, she didn’t allow herself to look by the window, she knew way too well these roads, the city before the school, these sceneries. It didn’t matter how dark it was outside, she still recognised everything, every single detail that made these places what they were. As she closed her eyes she wished she would wake up in her room at Constance’s, her bed only a few feet away from Lisa’s, blonde locks covering her dreamy face, and pretend nothing had ever happened out of the dorms.

Some flashbacks from last year. Unlike her pictures, none of them had washed away. They were still fresh, printed, inked in the back of her mind. 

The screams in the corridors.

The cries. 

The anxiety. 

The bitten nails. 

The lies. Theirs. Hers. 

Her hands tightened around the black journal. She tried to follow her breath. (Don’t lose control just yet.) Inhale. (It’s too early to lose control.) Exhale. (control, control, control.) 

It’d be okay. She still had Lisa. 

She still had Lisa.

She still had Lisa. 

She still had Lisa. 

She opened her eyes again, distracted by the brightness of her phone’s screen. It was so dark out as well as in the car that the light was almost blinding, forcing her tired brown eyes to adjust and read the couple of words that had appeared on the screen. It was a text from Lisa. Her heart almost jolted with excitement.

> **(6:54pm)** _can’t wait to see u again, it’s been too long nini_

She’s right. It’s been too long. She hadn’t realised how much she needed her in her life, by her side before the beginning of the summer, when she found herself more alone and insecure than she’d ever been before. It had been painful, and coming back to school will hurt just as much, but at least she had Lisa. 

At least she had Lisa. At least she had Lisa. At least she had Lisa.

> **(6:55pm)** _me too. ily_

The car stopped. 

Jennie turned her head to her right, letting her eyes contemplate Constance’s court for the very first time in almost four months. She hadn’t even noticed they had passed the thin and imposant metallic grid. Not much had changed since she had left, perhaps some flowers had been switched, she couldn’t tell. The fountain, a replica of a statue of Aphrodite, still reigning from the middle of the court, seemed cleaner under the moon light. The water coming from below the Greek goddess’ feet, clearer. More than it had ever been before. 

“Miss Jennie?” 

She simply nodded.

“We have arrived.” 

She nodded again. “I know”, she whispered.

“I’ll take care of your luggage.” 

She never said anything. She didn’t want to be here. 

_But soon, you’ll be with Lisa. You’ll be with Lisa._

Lisa. Lisa. Lisa. Lisa. Lisa. 

She closed her eyes again. Inhaled. Held her breath. Exhaled. Her right hand reached for the door handle, held it firmly, and with one strong push, she opened the door, letting the cold air meet her exposed collarbones, make its way between her her dark locks, refresh her slightly tanned skin. Then, without allowing her thoughts to get in her way, she grabbed her bag, still holding her journal, her feet getting closer to the door. 

She stepped out of the car, more determined than she had ever been.

*

Some sounds of rolling wheels. A couple of whispers. Upstairs, a few doors opened. Strange and confused looks. Many frowned. The wheels kept on rolling, getting closer to the whispers. The voices got louder. It was so late already. Who could it be? One ran towards the others. It’s her. It really is. She swore. Heavy breathings. Hands found typing frenetically, creating an unsteady pace some could not follow. Some eyes got more confused than they already were. Some got frustrated, almost angry. Suddenly, the wheels stopped rolling. A door closed. They blinked, bewildered. Then, a phone rang. Then, a second one. Then, a third one. Then, a fourth one. An improvised symphony made of ringtones and alert sounds soon filled the usually still dorms, accompanied by some chaotic blinding light show. Fingers holding onto their phone cases like their lives depend on it. Mouths wide opened, some gasped. Was it shock or fear? No one could tell just yet. Eyes locked on their screen, reading closely, making sure they didn’t miss a word. The whispers stopped. 

Let the show begin. 

  
  


> _Good evening alumni, Gossip Girl here._
> 
> _I’ve got some news for you. One of my sources, chuu91 sent this: “_ spotted, stepping into Constance’s Grand Hall: Jennie Kim and her iconic Chanel luggage set. _” Was it only a few months ago since Little J. had decided to take some “time off” her studies? Time flies._
> 
> _Don’t believe me? Make sure you show up for breakfast tomorrow morning and see for yourself! Lucky for us, while we wait, our source chuu91 sent us proof. Thanks for the photo Chuu._
> 
> _Sweet dreams!_
> 
> _The only one._
> 
> _XOXO_
> 
> _Gossip Girl._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/kittog__)! i also have [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/kittog) where you can ask me anything or drop a request!


	2. Breakfast at Constance's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "- Ô buffet du vieux temps, tu sais bien des histoires,  
> Et tu voudrais conter tes contes, et tu bruis  
> Quand s'ouvrent lentement tes grandes portes noires."
> 
> Le buffet, Arthur Rimbaud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 1 is finally here!  
> i'm really excited to share this one as it is (i believe) a huge improvement since the last fic i have uploaded here, syzygy. i'm truly having a lot of fun writing this so far, and therefore i hope you'll enjoy it!

> _Spotted at the cafeteria: Little J. and Queen B., caught in a stare fight while Golden Girl watches from afar. Power struggle. Looks like our favorite triple threat is finally reunited. Beware girls… this screams for sweet revenge. Make sure you pick the right side._
> 
> _The only one._
> 
> _XOXO_
> 
> _Gossip Girl._

  
  
  


Yerim couldn’t tell how long her eyes had been locked on her phone screen, left hand holding her fork still, points poking the neatly chopped fruits in her plate. She had lost the count of how many times she had read that tumblr post, trying her best to understand the whole point of this blog and why every single person she had met in the past two days was somehow completely hooked on it. Transferring at Constance for the upcoming school year -sophomore year- was an idea she had managed to accustom herself to over summer break (the future. the schools. college admissions. becoming a journalist. a good one. big houses. big rings. big everything. “You gotta secure the bag.”, her mother had told her, opening yet another bag of crisps, salt and vinegar, the ones Yerim couldn’t stand.) -and when she first stepped into the courtyard of the incredibly posh boarding school, it seemed pretty alright- but she wasn’t so sure about it anymore. It felt like starting a series at book two, convinced you’ll understand every event and character. She felt like a total outsider in this place made of incredibly long corridors, loud whispers, expensive uniforms, and superficial minds. 

An alien. A short blond alien. 

Short lonely alien. 

_Lonely girl._

She sighed, it was too early for breakfast, too early to start back class. The more she stared at the screen, the less she could distinguish the words and the characters. Her mind went blank for a minute. She was exhausted. Her eyelids slowly closed themselves as she remembered the previous night. Her two roommates _,_ Chaeyoung crouched at the foot of her bed, Tzuyu emptying dried seaweed pockets, as they read out loud the couple of words that made this unbelievable post for the two of them, and a confusing mess for Yerim. A couple of hours later and Chaeyoung was still blurting monologues after monologues, breaking down the character to the freshman. But by the time she had initiated what appeared to be the second part of her endless speech, Yerim fell asleep, exhausted after spending her day going up and down the stairs, walking through these infinite corridors, greeting faces she had already forgotten. Constance was too much to take all at once. 

Too many informations. 

Too many characters. 

Too many plots, subplots, intrigues, past side-quests. 

Too much to memorise for her already stressed out mind.

At first she thought she’d only have to worry about the classes (“Unlike you, most of these girls’ parents earned enough to get them private lessons, or enroll them in some top tier academies. The teachers are most likely to be demanding. It’ll be hard. But I believe in you, I really do.” A sincere smile had spread itself across her mother’s pinkish lips. Yerim had simply nodded, embarrassed.) but the moment Chaeyoung introduced her to the hierarchy that had somehow established itself between the students, she figured out that her worries would keep on multiplying themselves as time would go by. 

A hand movement and a couple fingers snapped, stopping her thoughts from unwrapping themselves. Eyes blinking, she lifted her head towards Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, whom both seemed extremely confused by the freshman. Chaeyoung’s arm was still stretched across the table, her hand resting a few inches from Yerim’s plate, hesitant. 

“Earth to Yeri? Are you… hmm sure you’re okay?” Chaeyoung asked, doubtful. 

“We can grab you some coffee if you’d like, the teachers here aren’t super fond of students with low attention span.” the other continued, biting her lower lip, concerned. 

Yerim blinked again, trying to process the words from her roommates. She had only known the girls for two days -although technically Chaeyoung and her had texted a couple of times prior to her arrival at the dorms- but the three of them already got along. Her chest was soon filled with anxiety when she woke up earlier, as her thoughts hit her sideways. The mere idea of this blog and its sometimes alarming posts made her heart ache. Her unstoppable yawns brought her back to reality once again. She was tired. Drained. Exhausted. Weak. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Wake up.

“To be honest, I don’t think I’d mind some caffeine” she sighed, placing her phone on the surprisingly still immaculate table -had they not left some bread crumbs yet?- screen against its surface. 

The two friends turned to each other before chuckling lightly. The tall brunette nodded several times, struggling to contain her laughs and winked at Yerim. 

“No worries I got it covered.” Chuckles kept on escaping from her lips as she made her way between the various tables, most of them already filled with teenage girls in their pyjamas, to the buffet at the other end of the wide room that was the cafeteria. Yerim’s eyes followed her silhouette, studying her movements and the faces of the sleepy girls she would greet brightly. 

“Wanna talk ‘bout what’s on your min’ short attention span girl?” Chaeyoung inquired mouth full, honey running down her chin. Yerim’s eyebrows frowned at the improvised yet accurate nickname. She sighed again. 

“I’m not sure I just get everything just yet. Like this post for instance” she pointed her phone with her right index. “What’s up with the nicknames? And we’ve been here for-...” she twisted her wrist towards her to check her watch. “-half an hour already, right? we haven’t witnessed any of that ‘power struggle’ have we? and also-” her fingers instantly met the handle of her fork, and brought a piece of kiwi to her mouth. “-what’s the point of Gossip Girl? Is this meant to be some kind of cliché soap opera? Why is everyone here so hooked on this tumblr acc as if their lives depended on it? I am _so_ confused-” she shut her mouth, suddenly too conscious of how many words she had blurted in one go. 

Chaeyoung stared at her for a second or two, blank, one hand supporting her head, the other wiping the rest of golden honey on her mouth with her napkin, which was now covered in strawberry jam and other suspicious stains. As she started talking, Tzuyu sat back next to her, handing a white mug to Yerim. (She nodded, smiling, focused on Chae’s words.) 

“Okay. First off, calm down, this is a boarding school not a survival show-” Chaeyoung had let go of her napkin and both her hands were joined, fingertips aligned.

“I’m sorry but being in a boarding school, miles away from your family while some anonymous student holds a blog, on which literally anyone can submit the worst kind of rumours and lies about whoever they want seems like the perfect prompt for a damn survival show.” Yerim cut off. The short haired girl let out a sigh of both exasperation and frustration, eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, while Tzuyu enjoyed the scene, amused. 

“As I was saying, calm down.” She looked at Yerim straight in the eyes, with a piercing stare the girl had not witnessed in her short stay at the school so far. “I can understand this may be… er… confusing?” (Tzuyu nodded, fixating her plate.) “and not to repeat myself but as I told you literally yesterday, this is how it is. This school is full of rich kids. You come from a well off family, so does Tzuyu, so do I, and so does everyone in this cafeteria.” She exhaled. “Many here, as much as they want to perform well academically and eventually get into the college their parents conditioned them to aim, are extremely superficial when it comes to reputation and- hm how do I put this…” her fingers already going through her blond locks, her head tilted toward Tzuyu, unsure of the end of her sentence. Her friend wiped the corners of her mouth with the back of her napkin and and shifted towards Yerim. 

“Some of the students, maybe most even...” she started hesitant “they care a lot about their image. You’ll soon notice that there’s a lot of tension going on between some groups of students… it’s more or less justified. But a couple of people here hate each other with a strong passion.” she emphasised on the last two words, making Chaeyoung burst into a laugh. “again, sometimes justified… sometimes it seems completely out of the blue.” 

“That’s when Gossip Girl comes in. It’s the perfect tool to entertain all these kids that barely see their parents throughout the year and it fulfills their urge to bring each other down every now and then.” Chaeyoung continued, the beginning of a smirk drawing itself on her lips. Yerim contemplates both girls, lost in between thoughts, wondering. Still confused. Still bewildered. Still perturbed. 

“What about the nicknames though? Isn’t that too much? Who’s who?” 

Both Tzuyu and Chaeyoung nodded. 

“To be honest, it’s never too much with Gossip Girl. She came up with the nicknames a year ago already, and it just kinda… sticked I guess.” 

“You shouldn’t bother memorising everyone’s nickname though… considering how large the student body is.” 

“However, there are some you should definitely remember if you’d fancy keeping up with the posts. Let’s take the one that got you puzzled a few minutes ago- argh come on don’t look at me like that, you were totally puzzled, right Tzu?” Chae resumed, waiting for her friend’s approval. 

Tzuyu nodded, cackling again, while Yerim pouted, a little annoyed, before sipping some of the dark warm beverage. 

“Back to that post. Triple J.” Yerim’s eyes sparkled at the new name, finally catching her attention. “Little J., B., and Golden Girl. In order, Jennie Kim, Bae Joohyun and Park Jihyo. Hence the name.” 

“Ah… that Jennie Kim. The one who unexpectedly arrived at the dorms last night. Long absence. Chanel luggage set.” she grimaced at the last words, as much as her parents could afford this school, she never in a million years would receive a collection of suitcases from one of the most luxurious brands that could be. 

“Damn right.” Chaeyoung’s fingers snap. “Quick summary of the other two: Golden Girl and Queen B. Both are part of the school’s badminton team, one is the perfect A+ model student, kindest soul you could come across, admired by almost everyone, the other is pretty much the same academically speaking, the only difference is that you’d rather not fuck with her.”

Yerim tried to register the new informations, the temperature of her coffee slowly but surely waking her up. Queen B. Bae Joohyun. Little J. Kim Jennie. Golden Girl. Park Jihyo. That she could managed. She still had no idea what the “power struggle” was all about. She came to the conclusion she’ll probably find out later, although she was terribly impatient and starving for answers, she had asked her roommates about too many things already. 

She observed the insides of her mug, filled halfway, before bringing it to her lips again. After a pause, she said. 

“So when Gossip Girl said to be careful of which side we’d pick -considering that we’ll have to pick one side at some stage- that means ‘avoid Bae Joohyun’, right?”

“Well… the thing is, Gossip Girl doesn’t pick any side-” Chaeyoung hissed, as her friend hit her rib with her elbow. She sighed. “Yes. Avoid Joohyun. Avoid Jennie as well. The only one you can afford to trust is Jihyo, trust me.”

A halt. Yerim nodded. Once, twice. 

And then, as she laid her eyes on her mug again, she lost herself in the darkness of the caffeine. 

“Have you seen Dahyun by the way? She usually sticks along for breakfast...”

  
  


* 

Yerim was hit by a wave of what seemed to be a strange mix of luxurious perfumes as soon as they entered the main auditorium for the year’s first assembly, already packed with students fixing their blazers, making sure their blouse was well tucked in their stockings, and adjusting their plaid skirts. The young blonde felt weirdly uncomfortable facing these unfamiliar faces for the first time, following Chaeyoung’s determined pace, wondering if she’d ever manage to fit in this peculiar world she hadn’t truly stepped in before. 

The trio opted for the fifth row, closest seats to the stairs. As they sat, Yerim held onto her backpack, refusing to let go as if her fate at Constance’s depended on it. After a while, she noticed Tzuyu’s fingers meeting hers, and let go of the thick fabric, allowing her new friend to hold her hand. 

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

The touch was reassuring. 

Meanwhile, she could hear Chaeyoung’s fingers aggressively typing on her phone, somewhat frustrated and confused, perhaps even angry at something Yerim could not point out yet. 

The lecture hall kept on filling itself, each girl walking even prettier (and maybe richer) than the previous one, until it was so full it became difficult for Tzuyu and Chae to spot friends they hadn’t bumped into up to that day. 

The door opened. 

The gossiping stopped as soon as the pupils saw the face that belonged to the pair of dark high heels hitting the floor one after the other in a perfectly synchronous rhythm. The headmistress, Mrs Wang, made her way to the stage fronting the students, followed by a small group of people (“From left to right: Mrs Go, english teacher, she holds the Essay of the Year contest, Mrs Bae, _oh lord_ , she’s the headmistress secretary but probably hates this job more than anything, _hopefully_ you won’t have to encounter her. Then… hmm new maths teacher perhaps? Tzu?” Yerim gave Chaeyoung a confused look. “a lot happened last year but more on that later. Right next to him is Mrs Cha, school’s counselor, and Mrs Won, Dean of students, she’s-” “Dean of Students?” “Yeah... she’s responsible for discipline basically. Don’t fuck with her. _Please_.”)

(Yerim spent most of the assembly caught in between thoughts, wondering what the hell Chaeyoung meant in her last couple of whispered words. This school was getting weirder and weirder as time went by.)

“Good morning alumni! To our new students, our freshmen, our first years, welcome, and to our sophomores, our seniors, welcome back to Constance’s.” 

The following monologue was just as bland and boring as you’d expect it to be, failing to catch Yerim’s attention for more than two minutes. She found herself despising Mrs Wang, not quite fond of her particularly theatrical gestures and her extremely dramatic emphasis on specific academic words. _Graduation. Diploma. Degree. Future. Excellence. Elite. Future. Education. Classes. Grades. Excellence_ , again. 

_Excelsior._

Next up was Mrs Won. Just as Mrs Wang, she didn’t inspire Yerim much. Her obsession for excellence and impeccable grades made her almost throw up at some point -maybe it wasn’t such a good idea transferring there, maybe she could still come back home, maybe she was overthinking this, maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d make it. 

You could feel the students struggling more and more to keep their eyes on the Dean, worse, you could hear them. You could hear the whispers, the sighs, the mirrors opening and closing, the fingers typing on virtual keyboards, unbothered. Her new friends were no exception: Tzuyu couldn’t stop eyeing suspiciously the second row of the lecture hall, eyebrows frowning, a weird look on her face. 

“Chae, Dahyun’s down there… I think- no, she’s right next to B.” her fingers were tightening around Chaeyoung’s arm, shaking it softly. Her friend’s eyes widened, her mouth gaping. 

“No fucking way-”

“... therefore, due to last year’s event, we’ve decided to withdraw Constance from the Annual Interschool Sports Festival. Constance will only take part in local competitions and, depending on how well you do there, focus on the nationals. Although this was no easy decision to make, I hope you do understand that it is for the best. Also, I believe there’s no need to remind you your academic performances matter a lot more than these... _futilities._ ”

The emphasis on the last word was too strong. 

Whispers. Louder this time. 

A couple of looks exchanged. 

Shock and anger were coming from all sides of the lecture hall, the students more frustrated than ever. Yerim, confused -yet again- let her back slowly rest against the wooden surface behind her. Neither Chaeyoung nor Tzuyu said anything, but it didn’t stop her from noticing the disappointed look on Chaeyoung’s face, the situation, whatever it was, wasn’t fair to most students in the room. 

But beyond the murmurs, a voice rose. 

“Little J.! How does it feel to know you’ve ruined everyone’s school year on day one already?”

Some turned around. 

For a moment, it felt like every available pair of eyes in the auditorium was on Jennie, sitting at the very back, next to a tall blonde figure, her only friend there probably, Yerim guessed. The senior, shook her head, helpless, eyes watery, unable to form any sentence. Yerim knew the feeling. She could sense her throat tighten as they continued collectively to watch the young girl panic in her seat, not noticing the obvious indignation coming from her friend. 

“Ya! Kim Lip!” 

Surprisingly, the voice came from below. 

Way below. 

_Joohyun._

It only took Yerim half a second before she realised she wasn’t even standing. In fact, she hadn’t left her seat at all, her face slightly turned towards the back of the auditorium. She wasn’t standing yet it didn’t stop her voice from being heard by every single pair of ears attending the assembly. There was some kind of spark in her eyes, some sort of fire that lit up her face; it wasn’t bright, but devastating, controlled, and created an interesting contrast with her thin and delicate features. 

All eyes on her now. 

“Oh Lord, there she goes…” Chaeyoung’s whispers almost made Yerim jump as she never thought anyone would dare even murmur a word after Joohyun’s -or B.- entrance. 

There was a pause, a break, a halt, during which no voice could be heard. It was too short to even be measured but long enough to create a deadly silence before Joohyun’s lips parted again. 

“Shut the fuck up would you?” 

Shock on Kim Lip’s face. 

A smirk on Joohyun’s lips. Her fire didn't need much to be devastating.

On each side of the auditorium, chaos. 

“Girls! Language!” 

The Dean’s voice brought some students back to reality. The assembly. The school year. _That_ reality. The one some despised more than anything. Later Yerim realised that most of them couldn’t care less about the education and the opportunities they were given at Constance’s. It felt so much better to live for Gossip Girl. To worship her, her lies, her truths. 

Suddenly, hurried steps.

The door opened, then slammed itself violently, letting its sound resonate through the lecture hall. 

Some looked up. 

Jennie was gone.

*

  
  


> _Good morning alumni! Looks like our favourite it-girl made quite an impression this morning! Any thoughts?_
> 
> _Why’d she leave? Why’d she return? Send me all the deets. And who am I? That’s the secret I’ll never tell. You know you love me._
> 
> _XOXO_
> 
> _Gossip Girl._

The phones stopped buzzing the moment the students walked in the class, hair done perfectly, pristin uniforms on just as when they had entered the assembly a few moments before. Some applied a final touch of various shades of lipstick, matte, shimmery, you chose it, as they waited for the first class to begin. There were only two sophomore classes at Constance, but it seemed that the odds were against Yerim, as she found herself without Chaeyoung or Tzuyu by her sides. She opted for the back of the class, third row, at the opposite of the window, hoping deep down the teacher wouldn’t notice her straight away. 

First period was geography. To Yerim’s surprise, their teacher -Mrs Kim- was young, probably too young too fit in the aesthetic of the strict boarding school. She was perhaps a little too kind as well. Her fine traits, her husky voice, her long dark locks falling down her back… it made the class extremely appealing at first. Until the lesson actually began. 

Textbook opened, pens and highlighters displayed messily on the table she didn’t share with any classmate, Yerim tried her best to follow the class, jotting down as many information on her notepad as she could, but refusing to even dare to raise her hand. The pace was a little hard to pick up with. Hands kept on raising. Questions kept on fusing. Answers kept on getting looks of approval from Mrs Kim. Yerim looked down at her notes. Messy. She’d probably have to write them all over again. Sighs. 

Second period. Maths. Or Calculus as Constance fancied phrasing it. Another sigh. _It was all the same, why bother so much?_ she thought. She quickly glanced at her classmates, bubbly, gossiping, exchanging soft whispers as Mr Lee walked in the room, piles of exercise sheets threatening to escape from his left hand, as he held his black lever case and a coffee mug in the other. _Chaotic._ She wondered. 

The class was however exceptionally well structure. The first lesson was easy though. Probabilities. That she could handle very well. The black handwriting that slowly filled her notebook was thin and neat. Her pastel highlighters added small touches of colour on the pale line paper. Overall, the class was enjoyable, but she felt left out. _Lonely girl._ As much as she wished she could sit next to one of her classmates and initiate the conversation, her awkwardness and anxiousness were stopping her from doing anything.

The bell rang. Gaggles of students running through the corridors. 11:32am. Third period. Advanced french. When Yerim walked in, the class was almost full, most of the seats surprisingly occupied by students whom she assumed were seniors, as she didn’t recognise any of the faces she had studied closely when she entered her two other classes. (She remembered the words of the school’s counselor whom she had met prior to her transfer. “Language classes work differently here. Depending on your level you’ll be assigned to a certain group. Most of the times, you’ll end up with students from the same promo. However considering how… excellent your grades in english and french are, you may be with mostly with seniors. You shouldn’t be scared though! Our future seniors-to-be are all very kind and compassionate, I promise you.” She had smiled, out of politeness, and again, Yerim simply nodded, a shy smile forming itself on her round face.) She did however recognise some girls. Right on the first row were Jihyo, and Joohyun (the sight of B. made her jolt inside, still shaken by the morning’s episode), both chatting with the girls respectively on their right and left. Without thinking twice, she headed towards the only unoccupied table at the back of the class, hoping she won’t have to interact with anyone just yet. But as she did, someone came in.

“Sooyoung! I’ve been texting you all morning! Where were you?”

“There’s no seat left for you anymore… we thought you had dropped the class-...”

“Sorry… sorry…”

Sooyoung -a tall brunette standing in the doorway, waved at the girls at the front of the class -an outraged Joohyun and the girl sitting by her side, specifically- trying her best to hide her giggles behind her palm, her cheeks tinted in a light shade of pink. 

“Drama club duties already?” Joohyun inquired, interested. 

Sooyoung simply nodded as an answer, still giggling. She was holding stacks of paper that looked like various scripts and two pastel highlighters she had probably used to annotate her lines but never got the time to put them back in her bag (as Yerim figured throughout the year, there were two seperate buildings that belonged to the drama club, and both were almost ten minutes away from the main building were class was held. She had stopped counting the number of drama students she had encountered on the verge of losing their breath because they had ran too fast to make it to calculus. Sooyoung was no exception). 

The brunette walked towards Yerim’s table which made her realise that a) someone was going to sit next to her for the next two hours, b) her social skills were far from being good, c) seniors could be extremely intimidating. 

Inhale. 

_It’s okay. She’s not going to bite your or anything._

Exhale.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit here?”

Yerim blinked a little longer than she had wished, blinded by Sooyoung radiant face. 

_Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk._

She nodded, smiled, too quickly for her classmate to even notice a thing. 

_Idiot._

Their teacher came in. 

For most of the class, Yerim didn’t talk. She didn’t dare raise her hand either. The last decision was probably stupid as she could have made a much better impression. Especially since she already knew the text they were studying. 

“I want us to work more on poetry and arts this year.” had announced their french teacher, Mrs Jade (she stressed on the name, no one should call her Mrs Jeong.), a young and passionate woman. A little too passionate to Yerim’s taste, but again, everything was a little too much at Constance’s.

Therefore, their first lesson would be on Rimbaud, a french poet from the late 19th century. Most of the poems written when he was still in his twenties. One of a kind. A legend, sort of. An unsolved mystery. Died too soon. 

“ _C'est un large buffet sculpté ; le chêne sombre,_

 _Très vieux, a pris cet air si bon des vieilles gens._ ” 

Sooyoung was the first one asked to read the poem, Le buffet, her scripts and ink pens still covering most of her space on the shared table. Her voice was smooth and orotund, she knew how to punctuate her reading well. 

Yerim had a thing for people who knew how to respect a text’s punctuation. 

Her notes were a little messier for this class, many new words written in the margain, analysis, metaphors underlined, _champ lexicaux_ highlighted. The presence of Sooyoung disturbed Yerim more than it should have. 

Perhaps it was because Sooyoung wasn’t focused on the class at all. Perhaps she couldn’t care less about Rimbaud nor the french. 

Perhaps she cared more about Shakespeare. 

“ _Set your heart at rest:_

_The fairy-land buys not the child of me._

_His mother was a votaress of my order:_

_And, in the spicèd Indian air, by night…_ ”

Sooyoung’s soft whispers were almost inaudible, but loud enough so that Yerim could hear them when she listened closely.

Her voice was sometimes interrupted by her pastel pink highlighter, emphasizing some words, some lines, her own comments written earlier with a pencil. Yerim found the scene fascinating, so much was happening by her side, yet she was the only one who could contemplate the show, Mrs Jade and the rest of the students well focused on Rimbaud’s words.

Eventually, Sooyoung raised her head. Her eyes met Yerim for a couple of seconds, heck, it felt like a minute. They were both losing themselves in the darkness of their iris, one more distracted by the other. Then, a smile. Almost a giggle. Sooyoung’s. She was beaming. Yerim brought her hand to her face as she felt the blood rush in her cheeks, trying to hide her emotions the best she could. 

“Alright class! That will be all for today! _On continuera tout ça jeudi… passez une bonne journée!_ ”

And suddenly, the show was over. The scripts were cautiously put back in her backpack, highlighters found their way to their beloved pencil case. Finding some order in the messy notes Yerim had taken would be a difficult task but she didn’t want to bother herself with such a task yet. 

“See you on thursday?” 

She looked up, her eyes meeting Sooyoung’s radiant face again. She smiled. 

“See you on thursday.” she whispered. 

As Sooyoung walked fastly towards an impatient and overexcited Joohyun, the phones buzzed again.

> _Good evening alumni, eunseo_yu has some news for us! “Spotted: one of our freshmen casually flirting with S.” Well, hello lonely girl! Looks like someone has already picked their side. Sweet dreams everyone._
> 
> _The only one._
> 
> _XOXO_
> 
> _Gossip Girl_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's quite weird to be able to post this online as this chapter has been a part of my daily life for the past two weeks and a half. i'm personnally quite content with what i came up with. i've been working on this for such a long time now, it feels good to be able to share knives out here.  
> did you enjoy this first chapter? what did you like? dislike?  
> you can also come say hi on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/kittog__)! i also have [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/kittog) where you can ask me anything or drop a request! 
> 
> love, kittog.


	3. On the court B.!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> salve alumni! today i have some insta poetry for u 
> 
> i spy with my little eye,  
> Constance’s parasite and #79,  
> joining sides,  
> one wishing revenge for their broken tiara,  
> the other trying to fix fix fix the sh a t t ere d tiles…  
> bathrooms are full of secrets  
> you wouldn’t  
> even consider possible.  
> so beware,  
> i have ears everywhere.  
> time is the only thing  
> that keeps YOU away from the truth  
> you know you love me,  
> xoxo gossip girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaand we're baaaaack!!!  
> it took me ages to finish this chapter, but i'm so glad i did! uni stepped in the way many times and it wasn't easy, but now it is released!!! it's out!! i'm so happy! enjoy!

Bae Joohyun was a name almost every soul at Constance’s feared. The students would look at her with either as if they wished to worship her or with genuine jealousy. It seemed that her classmates envied her aura, her confidence, her tenacity, that irrevocable power which she wielded, that inexplicable inner fire which emanated from her, that bold, blinding, fire burning from within, and its flames you wouldn’t dare to approach unless it was to turn to ashes. Her teachers -no matter how many times they would discuss her case over break, lunch, dinner, how many times they would prepare themselves mentally to face her- once fronting her, would always end up being taken aback, hesitant, unsure of which words to use, how to properly begin their sentence. 

_Mrs Bae, I’d like to seriously go over your paper with you if you don’t mind._ They would like to say. _Mrs Bae, could you stay after class? There’s something I’d really like to discuss with you._ They’d wish to ask. They would love to add adverbs: really, seriously, definitely, really -again-, specifically. The more syllables, the better it sounded. _Mrs Bae, you haven’t turn any assignment in two weeks now, I believe it is important for us to talk._ They’d refer to some authority figures. _If this keeps on going, we’ll need to take an appointment with the counselor. The Dean is beyond disappointed by your attitude._ Not to forget the _classique indémodable_ : _Mrs Bae, phone please._ They would love to raise their voices, express their mécontentement, their frustration and anger. But they also wished to remain humble, decent, calm. You will not present yourself as desperate, they thought. Yet, they did. 

The would call her name, firmly, somehow confident at first. She’d lift her head, chin up, eyes round and sparkling, her glossy thin lips slightly opened, innocent, wondering. Their eyes would meet for an instant. A sigh. Step back. Retreat. There was something in her dark irises that shifted their rehearsed lines into gentle comments, softer warnings. _Mrs Bae, stay focused, please._ A smile. _Please. Please. Please Mrs Bae, stay focused, be here with us_ . They were practically begging for her attention, for her eyes to be locked on their words. _Mrs Bae, as much as you adore french literature, I’m sure you could give Newton’s laws another try. Another smile._ Genuine, but desperate. Always desperate, always begging. She’d shake her head, a small laugh which screamed for hypocrisy and rudeness escaping her mouth. _Oh sorry Mrs Kim. Oh I’m sorry… I’m so sorry._ Sometimes, there would be no laugh at all. Mouth gaping, she’d close her book, her journal, her notebook -whatever was distracting her- and bite her lower lip, guilty. And just like that, it’d be over. But it was all an act. They knew it, her classmates knew it. She knew they all did, yet she kept acting, as if she hadn’t noticed the red curtains hit the stage again, splitting the actors from the public. 

She enjoyed it a lot. 

Another thing Joohyun - _B._ \- enjoyed was the idea that no matter which perspective she would be studied from -whether it was the authority figures, the teachers, the students- there was always so much to talk about. You could literally not stop talking about B. You could not shut up about her. It didn’t matter whether you hated her or adored her. She was the only recreational substance Constance’s inhabitants could consume freely. She was addictive. She’d made others hooked on her, always asking for more.

You first started with the basics. _Bae Joohyun is B., B. is Bae Joohyun. She has an impeccable sense of style. She’s the original visual._ Whatever that meant. _B. hangs out with Seungwan and and Sooyoung. Park Sooyoung? Yes, Park Sooyoung. B. doesn’t hang out with Jennie or Jihyo. They despise one another more than anything._

Next level was her family, what attracted her worshippers and haters towards her. _B.’s father is a lawyer, he doesn’t work for but with. Important people come to him. Beg for him. Her mother is an internationally known stylist for an italian luxury brand. She is always booked. Did you say the dress she worked on for the Met Gala? Rumour has it she will be launching her own brand soon, I cannot wait. They have two mansions. They have three mansions. Girl, I can assure you they have four. No, they own a castle, and have a villa by the sea. Her mother bought a hotel in Manhattan. Her father has a collection of private jets, one belongs to B., can you believe that?_ They were obsessed with her money, it looked so good on her, it did miracles on her skin. She was glowing. _I heard B. has so many designer bags she stores them in a separate room, a dressing room, a vault._ The stories varied depending on the teller. _It looks like a museum, didn’t you see the pic on her instagram?_

There was another floor dedicated to her studies, her future. _B. wants to be a lawyer. B. will be a lawyer. Or maybe she’ll work for Vogue, create her own brand, become a mode. No, she’ll be a lawyer. She was born to become one, just like her dad._ Some vicious tongues enjoyed emphasizing on the last words, in the most childish voice you could imagine. _Just like her daddy._

_B. will be a lawyer._

It was her teachers’ favourite subject to debate on. No need to be a psychic for her to be aware of it. They’d often look at her, eyes widened, as if _“pris dans le sac”_ , busted, found guilty. She could read through the traits of their faces the tones they had used to criticise her behind closed doors a while before. She could almost hear their voices, their comments. 

_She can’t become a lawyer. How could she? Have you seen her grades? She only does well at midterms and finals. She hasn’t turned in any assignments or homework that was completely done on her own in weeks. Her last essay on Yeats? Seungwan wrote it for sure. Her analysis on King Lear? That was most likely Park Sooyoung._

_We should give her a warning._ Nods _. Oh yes, yes we should._ Determined nods. _We should call her parents._ Satisfied nods _. Excellent idea, yes, yes._ A halt, as they waited for more ideas to come to mind. _We should organise a meeting with the counselor._ They were about to applaud. _Bae Joohyun is a calamity and she needs to be stopped._

But you couldn’t stop B.. Nor you could stop the rumours from sticking to her name that had yet to be proven wrong. There were many lies, many truths. There were some lies in the truths and some truths in the lies. 

Some stories were about that time she would have overthrew a bowl of soup on Jennie (or was it Jihyo?). Others told how she was so angry one day she hit one of her teammates with tennis balls. It was so bad, her victim didn’t attend class till the end of the week. There was also this specific story in which she would have sabotaged Sooyoung’s audition when they were sophomores, forcing her friend to let go of Lady Anne Leville for Winter’s annual play. 

That was wrong though, it wasn’t soup but ramyeon. She didn’t hit anyone with tennis balls either. However, she did have an argument with Jihyo and slapped her in the face. It was messed up. She’d rather not recall anything that was related to the drama club’s interpretation of _Richard III._ The less she thought about Constance’s drama clique, the better. At first it almost seemed like a challenge: how could you not think about what made your best friend’s heart beat? what made her feel alive the most? 

Sooyoung -unless asked- never mentioned anything related to her extracurricular activities again. Towards the end of every term, she’d give the date of their final show. But that was it. No more meeting her after rehearsal in the loges, no more helping her learning her lines, no more time spent admiring her acting in front of the mirror at dawn, hours after curfew, minutes before heading to class again. She liked thinking that perhaps Sooyoung missed those moments as well. Maybe they’d become as close as they were. But it didn’t seem like either propositions would be canon again. 

“Bae Joohyun! Back on the court please!”

She turned around as she swallowed another sip of water from her pastel pink stainless steel bottle -she always felt awfully dehydrated after practice. Ahn Hyejin, their coach, perhaps the only woman at Constance’s Joohyun was a little afraid of. (Deep in her thoughts, she always emphasized on little. Admitting to her surroundings Ahn Hyejin was the most frightening woman she had ever laid her eyes on seemed like a terrible option.) She nodded, eyes on Hyejin, before putting her bottle back in her duffle bag. 

She eyed the other students from above as she made her way down back to the court. Standing behind their coach, there they were: Jihyo, Nayeon, Jisoo and Seungwan, Constance’s seniors and pride, legs and arms spinned around, muscles losing up. The sunlight felt warm against their pale to tanned skin while they stretched their toned legs and their defined arms behind Hyejin. An awkward space between them and the newbies; only one face had managed to catch Joohyun’s attention a few weeks prior - Kim Dahyun, an overly enthusiastic sophomore, probably desperate for any sort of attention, yet sweet and kind.

Joohyun could feel her heart aching as she walked past Hyejin, unable to forget there used to be more of them: three of them had left the club. 

One made her sigh in relief. 

One was a mystery that had yet to be solved. 

One made her heart ache again, crushed it against the ground -it was her only secret, the one she hadn’t spoke up about, the one she wouldn’t admit, even to her closest friend. 

Officially, they had left the team to focus on their senior year and college applications, informally it was because of her. 

She wondered if she’d get used to the change of scenery. How long will it take for practice to feel just as it was again? She was used to the court, the early morning practices on tuesdays and thursdays, she had accustomed herself to their fridays afternoons spent challenging one another across the net because of how boring things could get at Constance. Mais il y avait un vide à combler. There was a void to fill and there wouldn’t be any void if it wasn’t for her. There was something so special about badminton practices, something so unique, some kind of visible spark that made each session unforgettable in its own way. Badminton practices made her feel alive more than anything else. But this tuesday was a little different. 

Because _she_ , out of all the people, wasn’t there by her side. Not that _she_ ever truly was. But for a couple of weeks, Joohyun could feel both of _them_ slowly rotating around one another, the planets _they_ were on the edge of entering the other’s ellipse. And then, nothing. Not a sign, not even a text. Sometimes she’d wave as she’d walked by in the corridors. But that was it. That was it and it made her heart ache so much she felt like throwing up sometimes. 

Nothing was as painful as being in love. 

She walked until she was a few feet behind her teacher, not too far from her teammates. Then, naturally, she brought her right arm in front of her, parallel to the ground, her wrist rotating outwards and inwards, using her left hand to push it further, allowing the tension to leave her pale and thin ams. She couldn’t remember what she was looking at in this instant, her eyes were lost in the green of the left service court. Joohyun never wore green. In fact, she probably didn’t own any green object of any kind. There were only two moments during the year when you could spot B. in green: it would be the grass attached to her trainers when she’d have a walk in Constance’s gardens to “calm the fuck down” and when they’d do their annual picnic next to the roses in the summer. 

She sighed. Black and pink suited her better. 

“When does it end?”

She looked up, arms still stretched out. Jihyo, her long impeccable straightened hair released from one of her iconic pastel scrunchies, was standing in front of her, still, bitterness and impatience covering her round face. 

Joohyun lacked of words to describe her relationship with Jihyo. They weren’t friends. They didn’t despise one another either. But Joohyun was envious of her. In many more ways than anyone could imagine. Jihyo shined effortlessly. She was bright, luminous. She stood out the most out of the student body. She always handed her assignments when they were due, was extremely well organised, could stick to her healthy routine all year long. Her teachers praised her, encouraged her, almost begged for more of her sharp mind, because she was so smart, so clever, it astonished them. 

And on top of things, she was an excellent badminton player. It was so obvious, she couldn’t even try to deny it. Once on the court her movements were sharp and controlled. The public was always mesmerised by her actions, her moves, which always seemed effortless, her facial expression -no matter how strong the opponent was, she remained calm. Anger never took over.

Joohyun hated it. She hated the idea of having to share the spotlight, having to be outshined by Jihyo, Jihyo whose background was still unknown to her for some reasons, Jihyo who no matter how bad you talked to her, barely reacted at all. She had a mind made of stainless steel and it seemed nothing would bring her down. No matter how many times Joohyun had tried to make her golden eyes watery enough, Jihyo would strike back, still. It drove her mad. 

Two feet from her was Nayeon, eyes round, hair a little messy, breathless. There wasn’t much to be said about her. Always tried too hard to shine. Failed, miserably. Had this terrible habit of putting too much pressure on her frail shoulders.You’d often spot her trying to catch Jihyo’s pace, in vain. Could be annoying at times but that was before sophomore year. Something had changed in her eyes, perhaps the constant anxiety, the tiredness, explaining the dark circles around her eyes she desperately attempted to cover with concealer. 

Both girls looked at her, one slightly impatient, the other waiting, biting her lower lips, apprehending the conversation.

“Beg you pardon?”

“Joohyun…” she sighed. Sighs coming from Jihyo were never auspicious. “I don’t know what your plans are for the year nor the year after, nor if there’s truly any plan at all, but…” she paused, both hands on her hips then, eyes wandering between the ground and the bright blue sky. 

Joohyun listened, carefully, trying to link her teammate’s words to her her actions in the past few weeks, confused. 

“I didn’t send anything to Gossip Girl since-” 

She stopped. She didn’t want to finish the sentence. Jihyo stared at her, looked away. She _knew_.

But then, she grabbed her phone from her hoodie’s front pocket -an old smartphone from a couple of years back- and handed it to her, screen barely visible because of the blinding sunlight.

“So… I suppose this doesn’t ring a bell?” 

  
  
  


> _My dear alumni! I have a lovely bedtime story for you before you head back to the dorms! Once upon a time, Kim Lip, our favourite sophomore, pretended all summer to have a boyfriend… turns out it was nothing but a random comedian short on money… Poor Kim Lip! Looks like she won’t be living her fairy tale before a while… Don’t believe me? I have receipts. Actual receipts in fact, for once. How amusing!_
> 
> _You know you love me._
> 
> _XOXO_
> 
> _Gossip Girl_

Joohyun laughed. 

No, she chuckled, eyes widened. 

It wasn’t kind or genuine. 

It was purely vile and arrogant. It was the kind of sound you didn’t want to hear come out of her lips as you walked past her in Constance’s infinite corridors. It was the kind of sound you feared more than your grades, more than the headaches you’d get after spending too much time staring blankly at your computer screen. Joohyun’s laugh was terrifying and she knew it. 

_Actual_ receipts. 

She wondered for a moment how anyone had even managed to get a hand on such bills and what appeared to be a contract between Kim Lip and some random comedian. She smiled. 

Gossip Girl could have hit right after the assembly. She could have humiliated the sophomore or even targeted Joohyun herself. She could have ruin their first terls and possibly their year on day one, with nothing but a couple of words.

But she waited a whole week. 

Smart. Brilliant.

“Gosh, I cannot believe this…” then looking at Jihyo: “Is this real? Did she really go this far?”

“I-... you aren’t the source, are you?” 

A pause. Joohyun shook her head, still holding the device in one hand, her laughs in the other. 

“Trust me when I tell you that if I had known this I would have striked back a lot earlier… but fuck, this is genius.” 

Jihyo rolled her eyes, once, twice, groaned in frustration.

“Genius…? You and Gossip Girl literally ruined the girl’s term before it even properly started, how is that genius?” Nayeon scoffed. Hey eyes were wider than usual, but her facial expressions seemed so forced it seemed she was acting all along, striving to appear offended by the situation. 

“As I just said, she could have striked a lot earlier. She could have made her life hell right after the first student assembly. But she _didn’t_. She striked ten days later. Maybe this is the beginning of a pattern? Who knows?” her fingers were wandering in a couple of her locks as she spoke, voice clear and loud, but low enough so that the rest of the team wouldn’t pay attention to their intriguing meeting. 

“Or maybe it’s a warning…” Jihyo started, eyes locked on Joohyun’s. “Just like last year…” she bit her lip, as if to prevent herself from saying the word “sophomore”, the word had become too heavy for all of them. “Whatever you do, if your voice is too loud… she’ll strike back.” 

_Nod. Nod. Nod._

_Just like last year._

“Exactly. But back onto Kim’s case.” She tapped energetically the screen with her index, catching the attention of her teammates, before pointing at Nayeon. “You say this isn’t fair.” The senior nodded, muddled. “Everyone here knows you’re both into... doing the right thing, right? Right. So… let’s pretend this is real, okay? Let’s pretend she actually did hire an actor, and scammed her followers -about 11k- into believing he was her boyfriend. She even advertised charities which have yet to be real and begged people to donate. It’s not only about lying about a relationship now, is it? How would you feel about this? Don’t you think she should be held accountable for her actions? You do realise - _in this case_ \- what she did isn’t quite…right?”

“Humiliating her doesn’t have to be the solution though, does it?”

“Why not though? B. is right. The charities she mentioned, whether it was in her posts or in her stories…” she paused, and moaned in pain as she released the tension in her left calf. “... they were all fake. She scammed hundreds of her followers over the summer, I say she should be given a lesson.” 

They turned around. Dahyun was only a few feet away, stretching her thighs, two shuttlecocks she had yet to return by her side. They had been hanging out a little bit since the beginning of the term but Joohyun found her particularly annoying, it seemed she was seeking bigger attention than she could possibly ever receive. But she knew a lot. Jihyo and Joohyun exchanged a look, a very confused and disturbed one. Then their eyes widened as it hit them. 

  
  


“What I’m meaning to say is that… you… you should…” Her eyes lost themselves in the blue above them, mesmerised by the sky. She exhaled. 

“Maybe humiliating or making up rumours about other students via Gossip Girl, especially if they’re younger, shouldn’t be part of your agenda.” Nayeon finished. 

Joohyun blinked. 

_Gossip Girl._

Depending on who you’d ask it was both a curse and a miracle. It drew the students insane. The Dean was losing her mind, desperate to find an end to the storm the blog had started a few weeks into sophomore year. Every single detail about it made it more ethereal. It was hard to believe they had been blessed enough to have their hands on such a deadly yet crucial tool. The day they had received a random email sent to every single student attending Constance, displaying nothing more but the link to a tumblr and the words “fill me”, Joohyun had a feeling it would be their downfall. There was no way anything good could come out of it yet they lurked the blog daily -hourly some days- impatiently expecting the next post, the next victim, la prochaine cible. They would wonder what confession could they submit, who could they bring down, making sure their heads would stay above the water and not drown themselves in these rumours and slanders.

None of them had thought they’d be so attached to it, it was so unreal, so unreal. Gossip Girl made them feel alive. For the first time, there was something to be excited about that wasn’t related to their academic performances. They were less and less terrified by Mrs Wang -the Dean- and more inclined to fear their classmates: Queen B. and Little J.. They played along. And they loved playing. A lot. Once the game had started they couldn’t be stopped. 

Until their friendships turned to ashes because of whispered lies and twisted truths. They calmed down during the summer, pretending to care about the beaches, the Aperol Spritz, and the clothes they’d buy. But they didn’t feel okay. They had to come back to Constance eventually, and face the living hell they had built together. 

Joohyun exhaled, eyes on her immaculate white sneakers. She could feel the anxiety establish itself in her throat, making it difficult to swallow.

“I-... I don’t think I want to know how you two managed to get your hands on such info, but if this is true - _and only if this is true_ \- this is mad.” 

The sophomore looked up, hands resting on her ankles, arms stretching as far as they could. 

“The internet is your only ally.” she shrugged. 

Joohyun let another laugh escape her pinkish lips. Jihyo’s disapproving look she got in return didn’t stop her from smiling, shaking her head, amazed by the situation. This was too good, way too good. The year seemed already a lot more entertaining and promising than it used to a couple of days back.

“I seriously need a break. You two better not be behind this. ” 

Joohyun chuckled as Jihyo and Nayeon both pretended to stretch again, making sure they’d avoid being scolded by Ahn Hyejin, eyeing the remains of the team, and directing them. Coming from Jihyo, it wasn’t a threat, not even a warning. Unlike some vile souls at Constance’s she wasn’t so much into blackmailing and bullying her classmates.

“Girls! Let’s wrap this up! Don’t forget to put back the left shuttlecocks where they belong -I’m talking to you Im Dahyun!- stay hydrated, especially in the next couple of hours as today’s practice was quite intense. But you did good! I’ll see you on thursday morning. We’ll be discussing the team’s schedule for the term then.”

As the girls got back on their feet and made their way to the changing rooms, waving goodbye to their coach, Hyejin snapped her fingers at the three of them.

“Jihyo? Do you mind staying for a bit? I need to talk to you.” 

> *
> 
> **From: _Park Jihyo_**
> 
> **_(11:55am)_ ** _hyejin named me captain. too many tensions bc of the withdrawal of the school from the annual interschool sports festival. wang won’t let go._

Joohyun stared at her phone, sitting still, slowly processing the information. _Of course it had to be her._ She let go of the device, and placed it next to her plate under the innocent eyes of Sooyoung and Seungwan. She couldn’t care less about being the leader. She had ruined the team. She was nothing but their downfall.

“You’re okay?” 

She nodded, avoiding Seungwan’s wondering eyes. 

“How was practice?” You seem tense, angry. 

“Pretty intense to quote our coach. But it was okay, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Sooyoung nodded along with Seungwan, satisfied with her answer. They kept eating, quietly, uneasy. The void between them was filled by their fellow sophomore’s voices: Tzuyu, Chaeyoung and Yerim, busy debating on a YouTube video they had watched a few nights prior.

Then, everything went too fast.

Sooyoung’s phone buzzed first. Startled (she usually made sure no sound nor vibration would come out of it as she was willing to stay as focused as possible during class), she let go of her fork, allowing its handle to hit the back of her pastel napkin. As her hand reached for the shiny device, Seungwan's phone vibrated. Then Yerim’s from afar. Then Chaeyoung’s, Tzuyu’s. 

And then Joohyun’s. 

Soon, a broken symphony written on a torn partition. No harmony could be found within the sounds which quickly invaded the dining hall. High notes, random notification tones, alarms blasting, vibrations sent through the wood beneath their plates. Knives and forks left lonely by their meals’ sides, useless. Porcelain skins enlightened by the heavy light, brightness levels always set too high. Jihyo, a few seats away from her, looked pissed. One thing she knew for certain was that she despised the sounds more than anything. The phones -her phone- were always too loud, always interrupting, invading their space, their time, their lives like a damn parasite, and it was _toxic, toxic, toxic_ , it was suffocating, and she hated it. But Joohyun was okay with them. It was a somehow enjoyable shattered lullaby to her ears. 

She flipped her phone and unlocked the screen. 

She didn’t notice Sooyoung’s eyes as she did, watery, her lips trembling, saddened, concerned, helplessly trying to say her name. 

“Joohyun, you shouldn’t-...”

She tapped on the notification at the top of her screen. The post appeared almost instantly. 

> _Alumni!_
> 
> _How was your first period? As I was walking through our endless corridors, one of my favourite sources, jijiyeon_83, sent me some hot new to start the week the right way!_
> 
> _Ding! Dong! New captain alert! It seems that our little Queen lost her crown and won’t be ruling the court this year… it is time to kneel before your new impress! Jihyo -our precious Golden Girl- will be leading our pride, Constance’s badminton team. Poor B. … maybe if you hadn’t tried to kill your teammates in between two aces you’d still be royal? It’s time to work on your anger issues darling._
> 
> _Your one and only,_
> 
> _Gossip Girl_

_p.s.: as I always say, there’s no better way to enjoy desert than to watch some Royal content! I left you a little surprise, consider it as an early Christmas gift my loves!_

Her lips parted, she scrolled with blinking eyes. Below the wicked words, a gif set. Her eyes get lost in the pictures, attempting to follow the movement, the pictures - _everything moved too fast_ \- and she could feel her throat tighten around an invisible ball of fear and anxiety. 

The gifs were from a video, from an extract from her life, an episode from sophomore year, an extract from their hectic and dangerous routine.

The camera -a phone probably- was unsteady, shaking, from a perfect mix of fear and excitement. Her steps were too determined, too angry, furious. She could see her silhouette, her long wavy hair hiding part of her blazer, advancing dangerously towards the badminton court. She was fuming, _enragée_. Ahead of her, Jihyo, her racket in one hand, a shuttlecock in the other. Confused. Disturbed. 

Witnessing the footage soundless made Joohyun even more anxious. Because the words - _her words_ \- which came out of _her_ mouth, the sound _her_ hand made against Jihyo’s perfect face, the screams, the shouts coming from her teammates resonated in _her_ head. 

Golden subtitles were put at the bottom of each sequence. This was a tumblr after all. 

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Joohyun, breathe-_

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe anymore. She didn’t want to remember what she had said to Jihyo that day, she refused to recall the events that had led to such violence, to such drama. No one who had to experience Constance the previous year wished to awaken the dark and enraged memories from sophomore year. 

No one but Gossip Girl. Gossip Girl always remembered everything and it seemed in that instant she would made sure their actions would be remembered as long as they were under Constance’s roof. 

Her lips were trembling. 

She felt like throwing up. 

“Joohyun?” 

No, Sooyoung’s soft spoken words wouldn’t calm her down. They wouldn’t soothe her scars, her pains, they wouldn’t wipe her tears away. 

She stood up suddenly, legs wobbly, _all eyes on her._ Voices loud, laughs louder. Shock and mockery had outpowered all states of mind. Their food was getting colder. Once again, among the noise, a voice came out clearer, vicious. Like a polished dagger, acute and sharp, ready to slit her throat. 

“Damn Bae Joohyun, you truly are something huh?” 

She knew too well whose voice it was. _Forgetting her name would have made things a lot easier._ She could hear Jihyo shifting behind her, concerned. She didn’t want to see her classmates’ faces painted in disgust, fear, and with _wicked, wicked, wicked_ smile. She didn’t want to, she really didn’t want to, _she really really didn’t want to-_

And so she left, just like Jennie the week before, just like Jihyo the last week before finals in sophomore year, tears running down her face, broken. Joohyun, our dear Joohyun, Queen B., who never left a room crying. Joohyun who was so strong, almost unbreakable. 

She left, her heels hitting the floor as if they would breach the marble. The voices, the laughs, had become so loud she thought her head would explode. Beyond the noisy ocean, she could spot Sooyoung’s trembling voice, Seungwan's shouts, both at her and Kim Lip. 

She didn’t look back.

She couldn’t. 

The couple of days which followed the release of the video were unclear. She could sense how exhausted her body was from carrying all her anxieties which seemed to become heavier as the day passed by. She was trying her best to avoid facing the situation let alone run into anyone who was too involved with her, but sometimes, it felt like she was the one avoided. After a couple of unanswered texts and missed calls, Sooyoung became more distant: she wouldn’t even pay attention anymore and somehow Joohyun couldn’t tell whether she was giving her space to take care of herself or too tired of witnessing the same scenarios again, again and again. Even Seungwan -her roommate- had let a cold attitude take over her joyful personality they all loved and cherished. _It was all her fault and she hated it._

Convinced it would be pain relieving, she attempted to drown herself in all the assignments and essays they had to do, in the unhealthiest ways possible. She avoided both the cafeteria and the dining hall, finding comfort in a hidden corner of the library, hidden by piles of sciences and french textbooks. She’d write, solve problem after problem, she’d write so much her knuckles hurt, her hands would be left on the table, trembling. 

It took her a couple of insomnias before finally attending french class again -her only class with Jihyo- feeling empty, surprising both the teacher and her classmates but Sooyoung, too focused on Yerim and the drama club’s Midsummer night’s dream script. The first time, she could barely breathe. She felt oppressed, as if squished in between two infinite brick walls. 

After a while, Jihyo -out of all the people- texted her. 

> **(** **4:12pm)** _hey, hope ur okay. could you meet me at the bathroom later? around 5:30pm? take care x_

Her biology syllabus on her knees, she read the text a couple of times before finally typing a response. 

> **(4:20pm)** _ive been better. see u later_

Constance’s bathrooms were dangerous places. Secrets were shared, swapped, and stolen. Lies were appropriated and truths thrown away. Voices would hiss, eyes would widen themselves, fingers would shake, hands would tremble. You could witness an extravagant collection of emotions against the cold pastel blue and white tiles. The ones which stood out the most were disgust, envy, shock and jealousy. 

_I can’t believe she did this._ She really couldn’t. _It makes so much sense now._ Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn’t. _So GG was right… oh God._ Gossip Girl wasn’t right. The source was. The traitor. The one with whom the secret was shared in the first place. _She’s so… what’s the words again? Repulsing._ She wasn’t. _She’s such a slut._ She wasn’t. _Such a whore_ . No, don’t call her that. _What a bitch._ Please.

Constance’s bathrooms were the ideal place to bond with the naughty and the devilish, the abusive and the toxic, the manipulative and the mind-breaking. Back against the wall, listening to the melodious sound of the clear water running down the impeccable sinks, you became friends with the sharp tongues, you played with pointed knives. 

_Beware not to cut yourself._

Some students showed up more than others. You never knew what horrific story or complaint you would hear. Some confidences were dangerous, almost lethal. 

Apart from Seungwan, Joohyun didn’t have anyone to go the bathroom. Sooyoung wouldn’t tag along anymore. It used to be their favourite place to hang out together -Sooyoung, Seungwan, Jennie, Lisa, Rosé, Mina and Sana-, whether it was in between classes, during their study breaks, late on saturday afternoons, or early in the morning, bottles of vodka by their side. They were quite the crew before sophomore year happened. Before Gossip Girl slowly became a weapon of choice they would use against one another to tear themselves apart. Sometimes, it was impossible to trace back the source, the voice that had sold away their lies and confessions. Perhaps not knowing who had tried to bring one down when they knew everything there had to be known about the student body was what drove them insane the most. 

Back then, they were always at the top. In a way, they always were. But their group was shattered, their so-called friendships lacerated and nothing would make things like they used to be. Gossip Girl made sure to always remind them how wicked they were, how vile were their “jokes”, their “traditions”. 

Constance’s bathrooms were dangerous places. Yet, there she was, sitting on one of the wide blinded window sill, eyes red, facing an expressionless Jihyo at 5:30 in the afternoon. 

“Park Jihyo sneaking in the bathroom in between pomodoro sessions… I cannot believe I get to witness this with my own eyes, only three weeks into the first term.” 

The brunette eyed her, concerned. No smile in sight.

“You look… tired…” she paused, frowning. “and like you cried too much… didn’t know trigonometry _triggered_ you so much.” she finished with a smirk. 

Joohyun bit her lip, trying hard not to let out a chuckle: she refused to give such satisfaction to Jihyo, whom had suddenly got a Ovomaltine out of her pocket. She handed it to her, eyes locked on hers.

“There, this should cheer you up.”

She coughed.

“Seriously? Just because you’re the ‘captain’ now doesn’t mean you have to babysit each of your teammates.” she snorted. Jihyo sighed, rolled her eyes. 

“Joohyun, please. You’ve been literally humiliated in front of the entire student body three days ago, you’ve skipped both our french and biology class, how do you expect me to remain passive?”

“You’ve seen the post-” she began, her lips twitching. 

She rolled her eyes again.

“Heck yes I did. You’re a bitch at times -if not most of the time- Joohyun. That’s pretty much common knowledge. But I can’t do much about it, can I? Now eat, there’s something we need to talk about seriously.”

Slowly and carefully, she peeled the wrapping off the chocolate bar, making sure no bit would fall off on the spotless tiles, before bringing the snack to her mouth. 

“So -hm _fuck_ this is _so_ good-… what is this about?”

“The Annual Interschool Sport Festival.” 

She froze.

“Seriously? You’re still onto that?”(Jihyo nodded)“No way hm hm I don’t believe you… no one negotiates with Wang, everyone knows that.”

That was true. No one did. No matter how many times they had tried whether it was to organise meaningless balls and other events, they’d be left with empty schedules, bored and frustrated. You couldn’t simply negotiate with the Dean.

“There’s a way we can still make it. We can cancel the withdrawal of the school anytime.”

She took another bite. Cereal bars were too good for her to stop eating. Eyes still on her snack she asked: “What kind of fucked up arrangement did you two come up with?” 

“Basically… they’ll cancel the withdrawal if we bring back Jennie on the team.”

Her mouth gaped at the sound of the name. Her eyes widened suddenly, too quickly, and before she could even proceed, she was choking on her bite. Jihyo, still next to her, remained composed. 

“We’re so not doing this… no, no,no I’m not doing this Jihyo, do you hear me? I’m not letting her stepping one foot on any of Constance’s court again, _I won’t fucking let her-_ ” she started furiously.

“Joohyun. _Please_. This festival matters. Maybe not to you, but I can assure you the other girls care. Think about them. Think about our college applications. The swimming team is also really pissed off, and hell, let’s not talk about the volleyball club, every time I see Chaeyoung I feel like she’d cut our throats just for fun. We seriously cannot afford to miss such opportunity, do you hear me? Do you hear me?” She was making tons of hands movement by then, too agitated to stay in place anymore.

“I’m not- gosh I’m sorry, I really can’t. She ruined our lives Jihyo, she ruined _us_.”

“Joohyun. As far as I’m concerned, she’s not the only culprit.” A pause. She wished she could deny her words. But she was right, again. “I’ve seen the way she’s been behaving recently, she’s making herself so discreet we barely notice her anymore… She’s hiding. Apart from Lisa, she’s been avoiding every single member of your _‘crew’_.”

She shook her head multiple times as she finished off the cereal bar, before laking her way to one of the dozens of sinks lined next to each other, facing a wide mirror. The water was cold when it hit her defined fingers, 

“It’s all an act. It’s nothing but a fucking act. She never passed sophomore year, how on earth is she even here?” She wasn’t talking to Jihyo anymore. Her thoughts, her words were escaping her mouth, she had no filter anymore.

“What if it isn’t? To quote your words ‘let’s pretend this is real.’ Let’s pretend for a minute this isn’t an act. Giving her a second chance would be fair right?” 

“Fair? Jihyo do you even hear yourself when you speak? She’ll be our downfall, I’m calling it.”

“I’m not asking for your permission. I only met with you to check in and warn you, she’ll be back on the team before next week if things go well.” She sighed. “My parents can’t afford college for me. My best shot is the festival. You’ve no idea how much of an advantage this could be. It’d help everyone. Including _you_.” 

She was only inches away from her then, trying her best to get an sign from Joohyun, a nod of approbation, an insignificant smile, anything. The young girl’s eyes widened at the words, discovering for the first time about her classmate’s social background. It made sense. Jihyo was on a scholarship. She would have probably said something awful in a different context. The year before, she would have probably tried to bring her down. But she couldn't. It wasn't fair. For both of them. 

_Think about the others_ , she thought.

Eventually, she tilted her head. 

“What’s your plan? Jennie still despises you.” she muttered under her breath. 

Jihyo smiled, confident. Even in the bright room, she shined brighter, making it impossible to miss her. _Ahn Hyejin made the right choice._

“Don’t worry about that, I think I’ve got it covered.” 

  
  


*

  
  


It didn’t take long before Joohyun’s phone’s screen lit up again, not far from her history homework. She bit her lip knowingly, it was obviously a notification from Gossip Girl. She grabbed the phone anyway, hands shaking, lips trembling, unsure of her movements. Then, without thinking, she tapped on the alert.

  
  


> _salve alumni! today i have some insta poetry for u_
> 
> _i spy with my little eye,_
> 
> _Constance’s parasite and #79,_
> 
> _joining sides,_
> 
> _one wishing revenge for their broken tiara,_
> 
> _the other trying to_ fix fix fix _the sh a t t ere d_ _tiles…_
> 
> _bathrooms are full of secrets_
> 
> _you wouldn’t_
> 
> _even consider possible._
> 
> _so beware,_
> 
> _i have ears everywhere._
> 
> _time is the only thing_
> 
> _that keeps YOU away from the truth_
> 
> _you know you love me,_
> 
> _xoxo gossip girl_

  
  


She stormed out of the library, thoughts running through her mind way too fast, making her head ache, anxious. She walked, walked, walked down the aisle, under the confused eyes of her classmates wondering what could have had possibly put her in such a terrible mood. She hurried, hurried, hurried down the stairs, making her way through the hall which led to Constance’s gardens. She stepped, stepped, stepped on the grass: she couldn’t care less about the big grey clouds above her. The sky was so low some would have felt oppressed but she couldn’t care less, she couldn’t care less, she couldn’t care less. Her heels were soon dirtied by the ever so green grass and the damp soil, adding an intriguing detail to her outfit: her classic pleated skirt -pastel pink, again- matched with a bright white blouse. She didn’t mind the breeze caressing her inner thighs and exploring the space between her neck and her hair -a little wavy then- but the stronger the wind was, the angrier she’d become. Her thoughts were messy, indiscernible, and twisted. She tried to push them away, once, twice, thrice, as she walked again, almost furiously, and kept walking. She had decided she’d walk until her feet were so sore her legs would shake, tremble, unable to support either her weight or her thoughts, always too loud and heavy. 

“Joohyun?” 

She jolted in surprise as her eyes met a pair of dark irises hidden behind a few messy locks which had escaped from a colourful scrunchie. The owner, wearing a bright yellow raincoat, was too familiar for Joohyun to forget their name, a name which she had whispered to herself too many times as she dozed off buried in her sheets, a name which she had scribbled in her journal so much she had her own preferences concerning its calligraphy. She could never omit a name which made her heart pound too hard in her tight chest, and made it skip a beat or two all in the span of a day. 

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, the letters stayed stuck at the tip of her tongue, forbidding them to ever escape her tinted lips. 

_Seulgi._

_Seulgi. Seulgi. Seulgi._

“Hey.” she breathed, eventually. 

She suddenly remembered that time they had run into her one night in the sophomores’ bathroom, drunk, embarrassed, cheeks blushing hard. They hadn’t even exchanged any words. Simply looked at one another -perhaps Joohyun’s eyes had wondered _too much_ \- awkwardly, not knowing what to said. The others paid little to no attention to the peculiar scene taking place in front of them: gossiping about Jihyo’s grades and possible background was far more interesting. 

“Hi.” 

She smiled, awkwardly, as if Joohyun was the last person whose path she’d wish to cross, before walking past her, unable to find any other words to tell the girl she used to call her teammate, leaving Joohyun alone, standing still on the grass, her eyes filled with emotions she could not handle. 

It started raining. Her phone vibrated in her pale hand. Golden Girl.

> **_From: Park Jihyo_ **
> 
> ******(5:59pm)** _found the solution for jennie. don’t worry about gg it’ll be ok_

She breathed.

And then, it poured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey  
> hopefully you enjoyed reading these words just as much as i enjoyed writing them!  
> being confined, these times are quite hectic and confusing, but hopefully we will get through this soon!  
> take care, stay at home, be safe and wash your hands.  
> love you all  
> p.s.: come say hi on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/kittog__)! i also have [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/kittog) where you can ask me anything or drop a request!


	4. Big Pocket Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kim Jisoo, I love you-” 
> 
> “Les affaires sont les affaires, darling.”

> _Salve alumni!_
> 
> _I believe it is time for a few updates from our favourite it-girls._
> 
> _1) B. is back in class… her textbooks in one hand, a sword behind her back. Looks like someone is about to snap._
> 
> _2) Our fellow comedians are debating how they will give S. the spotlight this year. Should Park Sooyoung become Hamlet for Christmas or actually let my girls shine?_
> 
> _3) To our great surprise, no murder was reported on any badminton court in the past month. Call it a groundbreaking record._
> 
> _Take care of yourselves darlings… we’ll meet again soon for some spicy posts._
> 
> _You know you love me,_
> 
> _xoxo Gossip Girl_

Nayeon eyed her phone, hidden under her dark Balenciaga bomber jacket. She had lost the count of how many posts the nerve-cracking tumblr had uploaded since they had stepped a foot on the gravel surrounding the castle that was Constance. As soon as their miu miu high heels had hit the marble floor of the complex Victorian palace, their phones buzzed frenetically, echoing through the endless corridors, the tidied dorms, the locked classrooms, and the wide opened dining hall. Everyone had to know about their it-girls’ whereabouts and the new faces they’d run into soon: _where had B. spent her summer? What about Lalisa? How was Bangkok? Thank God Jennie only posted once throughout her holidays. Kim Yeri? Yerim? She attended public school. Ew._

You couldn’t quite escape the intricate loop Gossip Girl had built, you were confined, lockdowned, with no other choice but to consume the content Gossip Girl would give away. You ended up addicted, of course, obsessed by all the insane stories the blog had to offer. You were never bored with socialites. At times, you’d wander, lurk further, looking desperately for any sign of a nickname, your own name, a picture taken in the corridors, anything that would showcase your existence at the private boarding school. 

She put the phone away. 

Gossip Girl had barely made a few posts about her -each of them about the most random annecdotes and frivolous details. The blog had this unfortunate habit on focusing only on her favourite debutantes, her darlings, her lovelies. But Nayeon wasn’t quite part of the clique. Yet she was always there, in her friends’ shadows, trying her best to be just as bright and just as smart. Failing at both had become part of her daily routine. 

Nayeon never shined. Others would say she was forgettable, _effacée_. As if she wasn’t trying enough. Enough, enough, enough, it was never enough. 

But she did so much. She covered them, all of them with their nocturnal escapades, their intriguing meetings in the bathrooms, vodka bottles covered by their expensive clothes, or tucked in their designer handbags. She had lied to the Dean so many times forging stories involving her friends as the main characters had become one of her finest talents. _No, she’s sleeping right now_ . She wasn't. She wasn’t even at the dorms. _She’s so exhausted you know, with all these rehearsals, she passed out right after dinner._ She hadn’t shown up at the dining hall. _Don’t worry she’s fine._ Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t, she couldn’t tell. _You must be mistaken, she was with me all afternoon._ Was she ever with you really? _We were at the library._ She hadn’t held a textbook for almost two weeks. _Studying._ Drinking? Dating? Kissing? _We were working on our essays for our literature class, on Jane Eyre._ Due the week before. How was the Dean so oblivious? _She’s too studious for such activities, don’t you think?_ She wasn’t, she wasn’t, she wasn’t. She covered her so-called friends and kept covering them. She barely earnt any thank you, her actions were never exactly acknowledged. But it was the only thing she was good at. 

She could have written a guide on how to escape Constance when the rich daddy’s girl sent to boarding school schema was too burdensome. When some knew everything about everyone, she knew everything about Constance’s structure, rules, and administration. Depending on your mood and need she could tell which path was the best to follow when sneaking out. 

At times she’d wonder. When in trouble, would anyone cover her? Probably not. Quoique. Perhaps Jihyo would. She was the only one she hadn’t had to cover. Jihyo wasn’t the kind to sneak out. If anything, Jihyo was the brightest of them all, constantly in the spotlight. Never caught in trouble, never involved in any kind of distorted gossip they had constructed over weeks, days, hours. It wasn’t hard to notice that no matter how strong their bond was, constantly living in her shadow, away from the sunshine, was incredibly frustrating. She was envious, greedy of her aptitudes, her insanely tenacious will, her irreprochable actions. Every day spent by her side reminded her how her feet would never have enough strength to follow the path she had paved. 

Nayeon blamed herself a lot for it. She blamed her personality, either too loud or too quiet, she accused her mind of building these incredibly complex mazes of thoughts she struggled to escape, and its obvious flaws. Every single day she blamed herself for not being good enough.

Yet she loved Jihyo. She loved spending time by her side, as friends, best friends. Jihyo had to be one of the kindest souls Nayeon had ever encountered, always there for her, helped her taking care of herself and be less harmful towards herself. There was no drama, no words being hissed at one another, no ciphered texts sent in between classes. 

There was none of that until two days ago, when Jihyo caught her after their chem lab -which she had never done until then, as they would usually meet at the dining hall for lunch- cheeks red, from either embarrassment or stress, she couldn’t tell. 

“I need you to do something for me.” 

Things usually went the other way round. Nayeon would be the one to face difficulties during assignments, or when it came to organising events with the students’ council, and Jihyo would help her out the best she could. 

“Wang says she’ll let Constance take part in the Annual Interschool Sport Festival if we ‘ _showcase unity and cohesion_ ’ rather than ‘ _humiliation and drama_ ’.”

She looked at her friend, listening carefully, anticipating her next words. 

“I need you to convince Jennie to join back the team.”

She frowned _-again-_ at the name, which she was -just as any Constance alumni- a little too familiar with. There was too much to say about Jennie yet not enough time to tell every single story she was found to be involved with. 

“Isn’t that a little contradictory though? Adding one of our _‘drama sources_ ’ to the team?” she enquired, her fingers wrapped around the handle of her bag. “And why Jennie, out of all people? Rosé and Seulgi were great elements of our team-” 

“She doesn't want her to be _left out_. I don’t get it either but it’s the only way for us to have the chance of participating to the festival.” Jihyo answered, annoyed, hands resting on her hips then, probably waiting for a positive answer from her friend. 

“Why me though? Shouldn’t you do this since you’re the captain of the team?” There wasn’t an ounce of annoyance in her voice as she spoke, which was particularly surprising for a Constance student.

“Jennie despised me last year. She probably still does. She despises Joohyun -of course- Rosé, Jisoo, and probably every person that came in her way. I don’t know if I can- if I can deal with this while also- you know taking care of the essays that are due this week and I-”

“I’ll talk to her.” 

Jihyo’s shoulders relaxed as she said so, although she had absolutely no idea how she was even going to approach the senior. She may have been good at lying but convincing others was another story.

The voices rising in the room brought her back to reality.

Ahead of her, before a few black folding chairs was the stage. Sooyoung, hair tied in a bun, messy, eyes small, frowning, was trying her best to hold some sort of conversation with Mrs Gwon -their prof- multiple scripts in hands, throwing her hands towards the ceiling, fed up. The way they were walking around the wooden floor, as if rehearsing the dialogue between two lost characters from a modern play, was particularly intriguing. Surprisingly, the senior’s voice was low, almost inaudible, but Nayeon, aware of the ongoing debate, didn’t bother reading her lips.

“My darling- no, I’m telling you- Look _honey_ ” One of Mrs Gwon’s most despised manner was to call her students names of all kinds, no matter how cringy they found it. “Last year was a mess, and as long as I am in charge of this class, no boy from Jude’s will step a single foot on this campus. Okay, dear? Hm? The male counterparts? We-we’ll figure something out erase some roles… make other students from Constance audition for the play! That’d be wonderful to showcase the school’s unity and find out talented actresses, don’t you think?” 

Sooyoung seemed angry. Frustrated. Her legs were trembling in her tight Levis jeans, as she made another attempt to dissuade their teacher from doing what would be the worst thing to happen to their drama class since they had signed up two years and a half ago. For a moment, Nayeon wished she hadn’t been involved in so much melodrama: no matter which club session she was attending it seemed there was always something to dispute, something to tear apart. At times she wished she hadn’t decided to take part in any extracurricular activities as they were nothing but overwhelming and time consuming. 

“We really aren’t going to have class at all, are we?” 

Jeongyeon let herself fall next to Nayeon and immediately took her cellphone out of her Agnès B. raincoat. Her sudden appearance into the frame Nayeon’s eyes -suddenly blinking furiously- had set startled her, urging her body to move abruptly. 

The two seniors had shared a couple of years already, which was mainly due to the fact their mothers had both known one another since boarding school -Constance, of course- and had been associates for a while (both of them had turned their names into iconic fashion luxury brands). Their time spent side by side often rhymed with winter and summer holidays spent in extravagant villas labeled as “second homes”, a mixture of perfectly planned morning routines and days consumed binge-watching Jeongyeon’s incredibly long lesbian romance movies (which by the way, did not feature _Blue is the warmest colour_ as it was according to the then seventeen-year-old girl “nothing but fetishizing lesbian relationships, but again what can you expect from cishet men?”), kale smoothies made after spending hours at the supermarket hoping it seemed they finally cared enough about being the fit girls they had “always” aspired to be (before hiding more Paris-Brest under their bed when one of the maids would drop in their room).

Jeongyeon probably knew Nayeon better than anyone else on campus, including Jihyo, which deeply terrified her. In a way, nothing was more horrifying than attending boarding school with someone who not only knew every single detail about your life, your relationships, both your ongoing and past feelings, but also submit all of it as a bullet list to a blog held by an anonymous student. Because Jeongyeon had done it in the past and if things ever went wrong between the two of them, she wouldn’t hesitate to stab her back. Her coup pour coup state of mind was extremely common within the student body, yet Nayeon couldn’t quite grasp her head around it. 

When it came to introducing Constance’s freshmen, she sometimes wished she could say “Never tell everything to anyone. Save some secrets for yourself.” and enunciate it as an unwritten rule -the only one she had failed, along with lying.

“Sooyoung seems mad.” her friend said, eyes still locked on the bright screen of her phone, scrolling, scrolling scrolling. 

Mad was an understatement. She was fuming as she faced Mrs Gwon on the unset stage with the last bit of sanity she owned -for how long had she been standing there? Her voice grew louder as time went by but it still sounded incredibly small next to their teacher’s loud words. 

“ _No more boys!_ ”

Many sighs. Groans full of frustration. A bright smile. Jeongyeon.

“Now, that’s a statement. Peak lesbianism right here, I _like_ it.” 

“Jeongyeon, _please-_ ”

“Please what? Come _on_ -”

Before she could even protest, Sooyoung walked back towards where they were seated -her trench coat and dark Prada handbag had been left on one of the dozens plastic chair, along with several scripts they had been working on for the past few days- furious and utterly disgusted. 

“She’s so _unconscious_ , I can’t believe this.” She spitted out as she grabbed her belongings, hands a little shaky. Tears were beginning to form themselves in her dark pupils. “I know how awful things went out last year but without St Jude’s we’re doomed… _for fuck’s sake-_ ”

“Language!” Jeongyeon hissed before grabbing her Herschel backpack -she was one of the rare students who had given up carrying designer handbags throughout the week as they were “too expensive to be occupied by torn notebooks” and “not enough practical for a week of class anyways”. Then, she kicked the leg of the chair before her on which sat Jisoo, whose eyes were locked on the small group of students which had gathered around Mrs Gwon, trying some kind of what seemed like a hopeless negotiation. Jisoo jolted around, startled, before turning her head towards her classmate, frowning. 

“Jisoo, my dear lord savior, please do something I’m begging you. If Sooyoung stays mad for the day we might actually _die_ .” Jeongyeon got a little closer as she soft spoke the words, almost begging - _sarcastically_ \- her left hand resting on the top rail of the chair, her plum nails tapping on the surface. Sooyoung dramatically rolled her eyes at the words of her classmate, definitely fed up with the occurring situation. 

Although they had been attending the same classes and been part of the same clubs over the span of their two years at Constance, Nayeon wasn’t so close to Jisoo. She knew a lot about her of course, Gossip Girl was a great source of information when it came to the daughters of infamous CEOs, but apart from very formal or drama club driven discussions, she had never got the opportunity to get closer to her in any way. Not that she minded much, she had her own friends, close ones too, but there was so much mystery around Jisoo. She was so calm, peaceful, as if nothing could ever disturb her. She would smile a lot to others -she wasn’t the kind of Constance alumni to be a hundred percent cold towards the faces she was less familiar with. She did well in class, effortlessly, or so it seemed, and despite all the essays to redact, the endless lists of maths exercises to solve, she still managed to attend both badminton practices and drama classes -just like her- and was surprisingly good at both, catching just the right amount of attention not to end up in the spotlight -she was probably avoiding it for some reasons Nayeon had yet to point out, and she enjoyed wandering in the shade, away from the trouble and the never-ending gossip. 

She seemed to enjoy it even more since Rosé had- 

“I’ll talk to her. St Jude’s boys will be back next week, mark my words.” 

It was unusual for Jisoo to be openly confident but when it came to negotiations she was implacable: you couldn’t quite stop her from persuading you to do whatever she had in mind, she always had the best arguments, the best compromises to offer so that’d she’d always stay winning. 

“Well, that’s ambitious. I appreciate the answer though.” 

“You’re welcome.” The dark haired smiled. 

  
  


It didn’t take long before Nayeon and Jeongyeon left the theatre, _bras dans le bras_ , facing the incredibly wild wind as they walked back towards the main building of Constance’s campus. They were so used to one another it didn’t matter if one spoke or not, they appreciated each other’s presence in silence. But as Nayeon took her phone out of her handbag, her friend couldn’t help but enquire her. 

“Where you off to?”

“Dance studio.”

“Still chasing Miss Hirai?”

She blushed, embarrassed by Jeongyeon’s wording.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

She didn’t have to look away from her phone to know the short haired was already rolling her eyes, almost as dramatically as Park Sooyoung. “ _Of course_ you don’t.” With a flick of her finger, she adjusted her glasses on her nose. “I would have _loved_ escorting you there but unfortunately I have to head to the library, gotta proofread something with Jihyo... these essays are driving me nuts.” She paused as they unlinked their arms. “I’ll see you around? French?” 

Her eyes were still on her phone. No notification. No text, not even from Jihyo.

“Yup.”

Finally, she looked up to wave at her friend as she started running full of enthusiast towards the entrance of the library -one of the many doors to the central piece of architecture at Constance- who waved back with a smile before bringing her hands around her mouth.

“Im Nayeon!”

She bursted into laughs. 

“Beware of Blondie!” 

Her smile dropped as Jeongyeon started laughing again, before pushing the front door and disappearing behind the thick walls of the school. She frowned, annoyed.

Blondie was the nickname Gossip Girl had given to Momo -naming the students after their personality traits was one of her hobbies- another senior at Constance, whom, to quote Jeongyeon’s words, Nayeon was desperately chasing, hoping for the bare minimum of romantic affection in return. 

Unfortunately, Constance rhymed with unrequited love, gossip and constant disappointment.

Many thoughts came to her mind as she walked towards the dance studio -held in another separate building on campus, contributing to the boarding school’s greatness. Words - _Jihyo’s_ \- a name _-Jennie’s-_ memories - _random sceneries from sophomore year_.

_Why are we inflicting this to ourselves all over again?_

For an moment, she considered texting Jihyo as she most likely knew her timetable and therefore what time would be the most suitable for a touchy conversation -ever since their chat after class, they hadn’t brought the subject back up. 

As far as she was concerned, the badminton team could wait another couple of hours. Hirai came first. 

She pushed the front door of the studio.

The dance studio had to be the most modern construction the boarding school had to offer: although the facade matched perfectly with the rest of the campus, the inside was a lot moore luminous, less intricate. It was wider, brighter, had five dance practice rooms as well as a studio dedicated to the most musical alumni. It was hard to come across some dust because of how immaculate each surface you walked past was. 

“Lisa, wait up!” 

Hearing the ever so familiar name, she froze. 

Versace jeans. Bright red Guerlain lipstick. Killer smile. Round eyes. 

Classic Lisa Manoban. 

It was hard not to be startled when your paths crossed, as her presence imposed itself throughout the rooms in which she stepped, carefree, arm linked with Jennie’s, putting on the biggest act at Constance’s. She’d ignore almost everyone -if you believed Joohyun and Jihyo and each of their clique were the only souls Constance inhabited- faking smiles when facing girls whose names she had most likely forgotten. She barely seemed to care about anything. Yet, it attracted others, she always had gaggles of freshmen and sophomore following her around, begging for her attention, which she never gave as she was way too focused on Jennie, and only Jennie for that mattered. 

A faint smile appeared on her luscious lips as she walked past her. She smiled back -pretending to be polite was a skill they had mastered years prior to their first days at Constance. Thankfully, her iconic acolyte was nowhere to be seen. She sighed, relieved. 

She made her way through the main corridor under the inquiring eyes of many of her classmates -her uniform betrayed her- yet none of them. It wasn’t common for the different clubs to mix: there were too many rivalries between them, too much jealousy stepped in the way, forbidding them to interact peacefully, support one another.

She stopped at the last door (a large ‘5’ was painted in the darkest shade of black she had encountered), legs steady and determined. By her side was a see through glass offering her a glimpse of what happened within the almost empty practice room. She grinned at the sight.

It didn’t take too long before Sana made her entrance, putting an abrupt end to the intimate moment the two seniors were sharing, shoulders touching as they shared one or two clementines. A few of their locks would meet at times as they’d lean their heads towards one another, laughing quietly at each other’s stories. Surprisingly, when the other blonde saw them and their eyes met, not one bit of jealousy could be seen in her dark eyes. In fact she smiled, and got closer to the duo ignoring how flustered Nayeon was: her eyes were mainly on Momo -as always- and as time went by Nayeon found it harder watching her be so close to Momo and not getting to be completely part of their schema. She was left on the side, ignored at times. She gravitated around them, in perfectly drawn ellipses, following Kepler’s laws perfectly. Her heart ached at the sight: she couldn’t quite tell if she longed to be her or simply be with her, with them, and as she thought of it again, her smile dropped, as a quarter of clementine remained in her palm. 

Just like Nayeon, Sana was wearing Constance’s uniform, which she complemented with a pair of knee high dark velvet heels, both of which enveloped perfectly her calves while also complimenting her thighs, part hidden by the pleated navy blue skirt. Her hair was not tied and it never was: she believed letting it flow against her back added something to her image that a scrunchie would never do. 

She quickly noticed the clementines beside them. 

“Momo Hirai? Ditching your Ovomaltine for some fruits? Are you okay?” then to Nayeon in a whisper, “Is she okay?”

Laughs soon filled the room, blending themselves perfectly with the citrus’ odor.

“Babe, please let me pretend to be healthy in peace, I’m beggin you.”

More laughs. Keeping a straight face when Momo’s voice enunciated the words so nonchalantly was a tricky task. Her eyes however, were sparkling -they often were when she was curious, almost dying to know something -in this case, details about Sana’s morning. Nayeon could feel the weight of the multiple questions she was about to ask away, partially forgetting her presence. 

Yet, she hastily frowned, as if she had noticed something peculiar on Sana’s delicate facial features. 

“You seem tired.” the blonde smiled, nodded with a sigh, “How did the student committee's meeting go?” 

“B. showed up.” 

Both of them grimaced. 

“Wasn’t she‘expelled’? ‘Dismissed’ from the committee?” Nayeon quickly enquires. 

“Mina reckons she’s a good element to the team… which of course doesn’t make much sense since she complained about her 24/7 last year. I blame this one on Mrs Wang.”

“Does that mean B.’s taking care of-”

“The Halloween Ball?” Nayeon nodded. Balls was one of Constance’s many traditions, the first one always being Halloween’s. Considering the scenery, it was as bloody and terrifying as you could possibly imagine. “Surprisingly she stepped down. Says she’ll be assisting Mina and I throughout the preparations… Not quite sure how this will go.

“In a way it looks like she calmed down and that she genuinely cares but I don’t- I don’t know, everything feels so messed up- you never know when she could possibly lose it again.

“She did look like she had a lot on her mind this morning, but I’d rather not know what goes in the head of someone who tried to murder her teammates on a badminton court multiple times.

“Some say it’s because of the post, others think she got heartbroken that week… you know how it is....” 

“One event, a hundred of stories.” Momo finishes in a murmur. 

*

> **From: _powerpuff girls_ (wednesday)**
> 
> **(11:40am) _jeongyeonie:_** 11:40am! Time to summon im nayeon!!
> 
> **(11:40am) _jeongyeonie:_** you better not be with ******* 
> 
> **(11:42am) _g(olden)g:_** meet us at the library in five?
> 
> **(11:42am) _g(olden)g:_** also, whomst??
> 
> **(11:43am) _jeongyeonie:_** bold you to assume she’s only five min away
> 
> **(11:44am) _jeongyeonnie:_** don’t look at me like that jihyo, i won’t tell you who ******* is
> 
> **(11:45am) _g(olden)g:_** whatever. **_@nayeon_** where u at???

*

“I know that face.”

She sighed, her back against the brick wall -brick walls had grew to become their headquarters over the years as they actively avoided Constance’s bathrooms, a drama and gossip cluster. Jihyo was facing her, eyeing her knowingly as Jeongyeon was typing frantically on her phone, eyes fixed on the screen, as she was sucking on a lollipop -she always had some in her bag as they were her main source of sugar. 

“Of course you do Jihyo, we’ve known each other for almost three years-”

“Yes, she’s pulling the ‘Minatozaki came through while I was flirting with Hirai _yet again_ and I still cannot tell whether I’m actually jealous of her or want her’ face.” Jeongyeon cut her, eyes still on the device

Jihyo frowned. 

“You’re still onto Momo? I thought-” 

“See? That’s exactly what I meant-” 

“For the record she was already there when I arrived… Momo barely said a word.” she breathed, adjusting her headband and her hair -the wind enjoyed messing up the hours they spent locked in the bathroom everyday to ‘fix’ their appearance, put on a mask.

“Jeongyeon!” 

They turned around abruptly at the sound of the clear and distinct voice. Two silhouettes were advancing towards them, arms linked, wearing the exact same uniform. It didn’t take too long for the trio to recognise Jisoo and Rosé, bras dessus bras dessous, hair loose. 

While Jisoo was radiant, Rosé not so much. She was struggling to make up a smile, clutching to her friend, unwilling to let go of her arm. She seemed uneasy, having to stand in front of her classmates whom she had barely ever talked to -she was avoiding many things that none of them could point out despite how many discussion were held and posts were read on the matter. 

Nayeon later figured out it was a very common schema at Constance’s: two stars couldn’t simply stand so close -one would always outshine the other. 

She soon noticed the shiny device in Jisoo’s hand, the screen was on, displaying a text they couldn’t read from so far. 

“You smell like victory… What’s up?” Jeongyeon seemed just as perplexed to face the two as they were. Her dramatic flirts with Jisoo rarely occurred outside of drama classes as their paths rarely met throughout the week. One of many Constance’s cons. 

“I actually have quite excellent news for you, here, take a look.” 

Jeongyeon accepted the phone, taking her lollipop out of her mout nonchalantly. Then, she frowned. 

“Wait, was this just uploaded.” 

Jisoo nodded. 

“I only ever bring fresh news with me, _love_.” 

The girls gathered around Jeongyeon, not questioning the pet name, full of both apprehension and expectations, bringing the screen even closer to their faces -no matter how hard they had tried, it was impossible for them not to be fully entertained by Gossip Girl, her posts, her pictures, her screenshots of unfortunate texts. The blog easily caught their attention. 

Jeongyeon’s jaw dropped as her eyes wandered from one line to another, most likely processing the information. 

  
  


> _My dear alumni,_
> 
> _When it comes to boys we’re left with nothing but empty plates…_ Mais ce temps là est révolu! _Our favorite men from Jude’s will be taking over our campus sooner than you think. In fact, I hear they’re already on their way. Who would have thought rehearsals for our annual Christmas play could be this exciting? I hear they’ll be doing Midsummer’s night dream… Talk about contradictions. But I’ll see you by the theatre...right?_
> 
> _xoxo_
> 
> _Gossip Girl_

“How did you-” Nayeon beggan, mouth wide open _-_ she felt incredibly childish then, feeling the sudden urge of jumping and screaming from the top of her lungs. 

“The first meeting will be held next Tuesday in the evening, auditions should take place later throughout the month. As long as we all agree to never bring one of them in our dorms, we should be safe.”

“Kim Jisoo, I love _you_ -” 

“ _Les affaires sont les affaires_ , darling.” she winked. By her side, Rosé smiled timidly, her strawberry blonde hair covering most of her face. Nayeon couldn’t stop herself from observing her mimics and expressions: she seemed genuinely happy for them, for the club, but appeared weak, drained, as if she had yet to recover from the summer or sophomore year. ( _Again with sophomore year,_ Nayeon thought, _when will it ever not be about her?_ )

Jeongyeon handed back the phone, the three of them still in disbelief. 

With yet another smile, Jisoo and Rosé were gone, leaving them back against the wall, away from the wind. 

They had a lot to do.

> **From: _jihyo_ (thursday)**
> 
> **(10:45am)** did you get to talk to jennie yet? 
> 
> **(10:46am)** not to pressure you but if none of this is sorted out before next week, we can forget about the AISF
> 
> **(10:46am)** i know you got this. i believe in you. take care x

“I’m sorry… there’s no way this is happening. I- I can’t, I really can’t.” 

An awkward silence filled the room as their soft spoken words vanished behind the many wooden shelves of the library. 

Jennie seemed apologetic, she truly did. Nayeon could see how embarrassed she was behind the few dark locks hovering above her eyes. 

“Are you sure there isn’t any other way?” She bit her lip as she questioned her wearily and there was worry in her pupils: she probably wished Nayeon had an answer already planned out, a backup solution, so that their abrupt conversation would come to an end and in a way, so did she. 

> **To: _jihyo_**
> 
> **(10:13pm)** _what if she refuses?_

She tried to focus on her hands, fingers joined together, she was close to fidgetting them - _no you will not fall into that habit again over such an issue._

> **From: jihyo**
> 
> **(11:32am)** _she won’t_

_Think wisely._

She tried to think of a lie. Any lie. Not too big but not too small either. The right story- heck, the right words that would convince her. 

But her mind was nothing but a blank space she couldn’t fill. 

“Not yet. Mrs Wang insisted you should be the one to join back the team-”

“But what about Seulgi? She was a much better player than I was… ” she blurted. 

“Seulgi wants to focus on her final year as much as possible, and since she’s aiming for an art school.... Badminton would simply be a waste of time. We also thought of bringing Rosé back, but she didn’t seem like she…” she paused. First lie. Don’t mess up. “...was either in good form nor had the motivation to go back on the court.”

Jennie’s mouth opened and closed unable to put any of her thoughts into words. _She didn’t know about Rosé._

“I’m so… I’m so sorry… I really- I really can’t do this. I hope you understand.”

She gathered her belongings and got up: Nayeon wasn’t looking at her anymore. As she got up, she apologised again, remorseful. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She left.

Nayeon sighed, as her eyes lost themselves in the large windows, hands tightened around her bag. Her phone buzzed. Once, twice, thrice. She didn’t bother looking: it was most likely Jihyo or Gossip Girl, and she didn’t have the patience for either of them. 

She thought for a long time. She thought about the morning practices, Ahn Hyejin’s roars as they ran around the court, the shuttlecocks hitting the ground, and then she thought about Joohyun’s deadly stares, she remembered Jihyo’s eyes -full of hate for their world, their lives, their money- and she recalled Rosé, breathless, her eyes filled with tears, as she got changed in the restrooms. 

She tried to think of the future. What would become of them after their senior year. What would come after Constance. Big schools, wide appartements, hotel lobbies, plane tickets there and there. She thought about Jihyo’s scholarship among other things. How bright the days upon them seemed. 

Finally, she thought about the present time, the event they were going through, their melodramas, their secret conversations, their shared laughs and tears. She recalled Jeungeun’s -Kim Lip’s- harsh words, how vivid Jennie’s face was when they hit her, how disgusted Lisa was with every single soul within the audience. 

Then, the idea popped up in her mind, crystal clear. 

> **From: _jihyo_ (saturday)**
> 
> **(8:37am)** _srry fell asleep early last night, didn’t hear you get back to our dorm_
> 
> **(8:37am)** _didn’t hear you leave the dorm either haha_
> 
> **(8:38am)** _you ate with momo and sana right? didn’t see you at dinner yesterday evening_
> 
> **(8:49am)** _did you get to talk to jennie_

> **(9:26am)** _nayeon?_

“Jennie?” 

The dark haired froze as Nayeon walked towards her, and without thinking twice unlinked her arm with Lisa’s, who was frowning by then, baffled by the unfamiliar scene. 

“I’ll see you at the dorms?” 

Jennie simply nodded, eyes on Nayeon. The tall blonde walked past them without a word -she looked incredibly short somehow beyond the grass: the campus was too big for them, considering how many of them were attending the school, and you could quickly feel lost and incredibly small as you walked along the laid paths in the well designed gardens. 

It was barely sunny and the wind was vicious that day, blowing with a force they were both accustomed to: it filled the void between the two seniors, observing one another then, one startled the other determined and tenacious. 

“I suppose you haven’t found another solution.” she finally let out, allowing herself to breathe, letting the fresh air make one with her. 

“Correct. But I have ideas. See, I can’t simply give up on that, on the AISF, on a saturday morning and call it a day. Your life may go on, and so may ours, but for some of us, things -senior year- stops here. Some- some of us are aiming for big schools, for the Ivy League or whatever, and are willing to do anything and everything to get there.

“Some of our parents may be able to afford all these fancy and private colleges, but at the end of the day, it’s what you do that makes a difference. Admissions may base themselves on your grades, but being part of clubs, doing charity, taking part in championships, are huge advantages that many of us would rather not throw away. 

“And I get it you know, I truly do. Sophomore year was… something to say the least. It was messy and turbulent, and extremely scary at time, but you know what? Fuck her, fuck sophomore year and what it did to us. Fuck her and her twisted ideas, fuck Gossip Girl.

“You want the other girls to stop bringing you down anytime they can when they used to adore you? Join back the team. Show up to practice. Win one match after another. Show them how strong you are.

“And trust me when I tell you it’s no easy decision for us either. Jihyo couldn’t even bring herself to talk to you, she’s the one who delegated the work to me.” 

She stopped, composed and perfectly still. 

Jennie’s eyes were watery and she was trembling, but Nayeon would not step forward to embrace her, it would have been inappropriate, and therefore she watched. 

“What about Joohyun though? She despises me and I can’t bear her either. There’s not a day when Jisoo and I don’t purposely avoid each other. How are you planning to make a whole team and head to the Inter School Festival exactly?” she sobbed. 

Nayeon grinned, remembering Sana’s words from a few days prior. 

“Joohyun may be turbulent, stormy and… heck extremely rude and bitchy but…” she paused, breathed. The wind made her feel alive. “She’s still here. None of our practices went wrong since the year started. It may have been only a month but I think we’re on the right path.

“She’s calming down, for good this time.”

Jennie wiped her tears with the back of her hands. Unlike her classmates she had ditched most of her makeup for nude lipsticks and days without mascara. If she was a coin then Little J. was the head and Jennie the tail. 

“Do you know how many times she said that? That she was calming down?” 

Nayeon didn’t look away. _Countless times._ It was known that the friendship which linked Joohyun and Jennie was build upon dozens of broken promises. 

“How about you? You promised us so many times you’d get your shit together, yet you never did, Jennie. It was always about you, and Joohyun and then it was also about Jihyo and then we all lost it. I- We can’t keep on going this way, we really can’t.” 

They paused. Breathed again. 

Talking took so much space, in a brave way, but Nayeon could handle it, she knew she could. 

“Do you trust Jihyo?”

She didn’t blink.

“Of course I do, she’s my best friend.” 

The wind blew even harder, messing with their hair and their clothes -a lot more casual as they were on weekend. Jennie acquiesced. 

“I promise you she won’t be a bother. Neither will Joohyun. At least for now. But eventually you’ll have to talk to them, especially Jihyo and sort things out. However you have to promise me you will remain calm when facing them.” 

A halt. The wind. Wild and fearless. Filling everything.

“Deal?”

Jennie looked away. Her eyes were a little red, irritated. The sight was far from satisfying. Eventually she turned back towards her again. There was a light spark in her irises Nayeon couldn’t miss which made her almost sigh in relief. 

“ _Deal_.” 

> **To: _jihyo_**
> 
> **(11:05am)** _Victoire._

“I’ll never thank you enough Im Nayeon.” 

She breathed, hugging Jihyo tightly again: she felt the tension release itself from her friend’s stiff muscles. They hugged for while. Her hair smelled like it always did, a blend of citrus and verveine, which reminded her of the clementines she had shared a few days ago with Hirai. The shutters of their room were still closed, surprisingly, but she didn't mind the darkness, if anything it appeased her.

“It’s alright, no need to thank me, really.” she chuckled.

“I mean it Nayeon, I’m so stupid, I should have never let you deal with all of that on your own, that was so selfish-”

She brought her finger to the short haired’s luscious lips. 

“Jihyo. It’s okay, I promise.” 

She nodded, before bringing her into an embrace one more time. 

> **To: _Jennie Kim_**
> 
> _**(7:54pm)**_ _don’t forget to notify hyejin that you’ll be attending practices from now on._

  
  


She woke up on tuesday, both relieved and stressed out. Her phone was bombarding her with various notifications from all kinds of group chats and blogs as she got ready with Jihyo -whom looked more exhausted than she acknowledged. 

For once, her reflection appeared brighter than usual. She may had to figure out many things yet she was confident and content with herself. 

The walk towards the badminton courts had never been so long, each step demanding more energy than the prior but they walked forwards nonetheless: as long as they stood side by side they would not give up. 

Above them, the wind, vicious and terrifying. 

It stopped blowing, abruptly.

And then, Ahn Hyejin, standing still, watching them arrive from afar. For a moment, she could hear Jihyo’s breaths grow louder as a couple of familiar silhouettes entered their visions. Dahyun. Jisoo. Seungwan. Joohyun. 

_Jennie Kim._

Without thinking twice, she held Jihyo’s hand and held it tight. 

“Girls! On the court!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took me a little while to come up with this update but hopefully you'll enjoy it! i had a lot of fun making the different characters interact and building up the tension......again......it's truly the only thing i'm good at.  
> don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts!!! talk to me!!!  
> also, i apologise for the awful title, picking these is becoming harder and harder as days go bye.  
> thank you for reading, always.  
> xoxo  
> kittog.
> 
> p.s.: come say hi on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/kittog__)! i also have [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/kittog) where you can ask me anything or drop a request!


	5. Les Yeux de Nini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nini? You’re okay?”

> Rise and shine my loves! 
> 
> Did you hear the news? Did you get to witness it with your own eyes? Did you drag yourself to the court this morning to observe the magnificent show that took place there? Because chuu_94, one of my favourite sources, definitely did. And it was ethereal. 
> 
> Oh Little J… hiding from the spotlight for too long doesn’t feel too nice does it? Beware of the court girls, the mood seemed pretty murderous over there.
> 
> The One and Only,
> 
> Gossip Girl 

The shuttlecock hit the racket as she raced towards the net again, legs steady, some droplets of sweat running down her temples—it had lost its brightness as they always did after a couple of matches: meeting the ground never did them any good. 

Jennie inhaled. The shuttlecock flew above the net along a straight line, moving fast, perhaps faster than she could recall, before it met the ever-so-familiar string bed of the racket facing hers and dashed in her direction again.

She couldn’t think much during practice—her eyes were too focused on the court, on the white lines that defined it, the net which stood before her, and on the silhouette’s facing her moves—but whenever she did her thoughts would quickly convey towards the same people, the same ideas, the same memories. 

She exhaled. 

She blinked.

Once.

A week passed. 

Twice.

Fourth practice. She had yet to properly talk with any member of the team but Nayeon was right, things were going the right way. No incident had been recorded up to that point, the sessions were so intense their arms were heavy at times, and their legs a little wobbly. The vile chit-chat hadn’t stopped of course—if anything, Constance’s corridors had become louder than ever, but once they stepped on the synthetic court there was no space for melodrama. They kept it for the changing rooms sometimes, whenever someone would have noticed _something_ and could not wait to get it off their chest. But the conversations were private, exclusive, only two or three pair of ears would get to share these stories. 

Time flew by too fast. Before she could blink again, midterms were upon them, assignments were flowing left and right, their routines were becoming overwhelming for those who played along the rules and Jennie for once was _dans les règles_ . Time slipped through her fingers, walked away from her, making itself unreachable. She’d often catch herself wishing she had larger hands to hold on time, have a better grasp of it. “ _Time management is the key_.” or whatever the many so called self-development books vaguely inspired by some of the world’s biggest CEOs said. 

The shuttlecock hit the net furiously, earning a couple of curses groaned out of frustration from Jihyo. Jennie couldn’t help but notice how in a terrible state she seemed: she was breathless and sweaty, more than she usually was, and the dark circles under her pupils seemed to grow as the day passed. 

She exhaled, allowing the air to flow with ease within her—when her mind went blank she’d often hold her breath, a concerning mechanism she had yet to properly understand.

“Nini? You’re okay?”

Her grip was still tightened around the handle of her racket and she refused to let go. Badminton was exhausting yet fulfilling to the point that she didn’t flinch one bit at the sound of her nickname, one only a few had the honour to use—once sophomore year passed by, that number was reduced drastically. 

Joohyun’s voice did sound genuine though. Whatever that meant. 

“I’m good. Jihyo?” 

The senior was breathless. Droplets of sweat ran across her forehead and her hair, her ever so perfect hair seemed oily under the morning sun. 

“I’m—… I’m alright.” She took a breath—probably the biggest one she had allowed herself to take in days, then muttered: “I can’t wait for the week to be over.” 

“We’re tuesday, Jihyo.” Dahyun pointed out. 

“Well, doesn’t stop Constance from being an academic hell, does it?” she snapped, cold. 

Jennie’s legs walked her back to the benches without a word nor a look to Joohyun or Jihyo but she could perfectly feel their eyes following her as she got closer to Ahn Hyejin, legs spreaded in her pair of black leggings. That was what she hated the most: to be seen, to be watched, to be observed. Being contemplated was another thing: she adored being admired, being desired, leaving her acquaintances in awe at her impeccable looks, but Constance was something else. It was vile, perverted, full of twisted minds. When she walked down the corridors she knew she had no other choice but to expose herself to the students’ judgement, no matter how harsh. 

Constance was no fun when you happened to be one of the targets. 

“You did well today.” 

She nodded. The others would have killed for an ounce of a compliment from Hyejin. 

“I’m glad you’re back. There was truly missing on the court for the first few practices… You wouldn’t know if Roséanne would be interested in joining back, would you? Seulgi and her were pretty good assets for the team.” She continued, leg bouncing up and down—was the fate of a private school’s badminton team truly that important? 

Her heart ached at the sound of Rosé's name, however, as it always did, to which she almost rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

“I doubt she’ll ever get back on the team, coach.” 

“Focusing on her studies?” Hyejin wondered, eyes focused on the rest of the girls now, still practicing their aces. 

“Hm-hm.” She probably did. Or perhaps she didn’t have the strength to face any of them anymore. Ever since the new term had started she ran into her less and less—she was most likely avoiding her at all cost with the help of Jisoo, but Jennie couldn’t care less. 

_She got what she deserved._

* * *

“Do you still think about her?” 

Lisa had asked her about Rosé a few days into the term, her voice tinted in both anticipation and a hint of jealousy—the lights were off, hiding Jennie’s cheeks which were her biggest traitors at times. 

Of course, she did. But her thoughts and memories were painted in disgust and disappointment—she couldn’t love her as she used to, she couldn’t call her her friend as she did so many times. 

“Nope, couldn’t care less about that bitch, why would I?” 

She could hear Lisa sighing in relief right then, but refused to point it out. 

“She seems pretty quiet ever since school started, she probably learnt her lesson…” she chuckled. Her laughs are vile. “It’s almost as if she was living in Jisoo’s shadow. She never had it in her, the confidence. Wonder why she still bothers attending Constance might as well head back home to her Mommy and Daddy.” 

“She’s still a good student though, right? It’d be a loss for the school not to have her around.” 

She hated having to say those words, having to acknowledge Rosé's worth after all they’d been through. She always appeared as turbulent next to her. Not scholar enough, no ambition, no big dream. 

But at least she wasn’t as big of a liar as she was. 

* * *

“Jennie—Jennie Kim? Wait up!” 

Joohyun rarely called one by her full name but when she did, she always had something in mind—a plan, a mind game, an operation—she needed to bring to life. Jennie was no fool, she knew what was coming when the senior ran towards her, her black heels hitting the floor with confidence and determination—the kind with which only Bae Joohyun (or B. as she was called) could bring out both admiration and terror from her classmates. 

In those moments—moments of confrontation—that she strongly wished Lisa was by her side, clung to her arm. 

“Please tell me you actually have some free time every day up until the 31st, I’m about to go feral.” 

There it was. The plan. The project. Her current obsession. 

“What is this about?” She hoped she sounded icy enough as she spoke so that she’d cool down B.’s overwhelming energy, although she doubted it’d work anytime. One couldn’t quite stop B. once she had something in mind. 

“What do you mean ‘ _what is this about_ ’? Jennie, you can’t simply walk around Constance and forget about the annual Halloween Yule Ball! We need to show the freshmen what we stand for God’s sake—”

“Quit it, what do you want B.?” 

Joohyun’s smile then was unforgettable. There was something in the way the corner of her lips created those two dimples on each side of her face and how her lips were curved that was madly terrifying. 

“I’m helping the student committee—yes I was “dismissed” but Mina finally realised she needed me more than anyone else, but that’s another story for another day—there are so many things that need to be done by the end of the month and as it is the school’s first official event, we need to make it extra special. Therefore I need girls like _you_ , hit-girls in the making, baby socialites, to make this even more glamorous and memorable than planned.” She exhaled. “Don’t look _you_ dare roll those eyes Nini, the Halloween Yule Ball is a big deal, and most of the girls in the committee have never heard the word _gala_ before, we’re dealing with an S-class emergency here, get it?” 

What was it with former friends and classmates begging her to take part in the school’s life? Was she that necessary? Was she _that_ magnetic? Couldn’t they ignore her, erase her from their respective memory, and move on?

She should have been the one to run back to her Mommy and Daddy. 

“We have midterms coming up soon and badminton practices take up too much time, I can’t risk shit this year B., I really can’t—” she started, cold yet frustrated.

“Alright, I’ll take this as a yes, I’m sorry I’d rather not listen to whatever lame excuse you were about to makeup, we both know how excellent this would look on your resume once you apply for college. I’ll see you after practice on Tuesday, love!” 

She didn’t bother waiting for Jennie to articulate an answer: she left, beaming, her Dior handbag glued to her fingers, as an extension of her arm. 

Sophomore Jennie would have run after Joohyun, pushed her against a wall, and screamed until her lungs couldn’t take it anymore. Senior Jennie wished the same fire ignited itself and took over her actions yet there she was, completely still, awkward and helpless.

Her phone buzzed. 

  
  


> Spotted in the corridors: B. jumping into Little J. and not attempting to murder her on the spot! Time really does fly by… 
> 
> My dear B…. what has become of you? Constance misses its favourite sociopath hit-girl. Please come back to us. 
> 
> xoxo
> 
> Gossip Girl

Senior year was going to be far worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been quite a while hasn't it?  
> this update is a LOT shorter than what i had initially in mind (this chapter was meant to have dozens of characters + events occurring and i was so tired i couldn't bring myself to write any of that), but i actually enjoy it this way! i suppose this is a little disappointing for a comeback, but for those who had a look at the other three works i posted ever since april, you might understand that i needed a little break from knives out before fully getting back into it.  
> this chapter is more of a glimpse of jennie's pov, it's main purpose is to hint things (again) but i promise we will get answers soon!!! i actually have all the backstories figured out and much more unlike popular belief... the next chapter should be a looooot longer and super dramatic, get ready for cliché yule balls, more unrequited feelings, impromptu make out sessions and revenges gone wrong.  
> come say hi on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/kittog__)! i also have [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/kittog) where you can ask me anything or drop a prompt!   
> The one and only,  
> kittog.


	6. Sweet Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Good morning my dear little socialites, Gossip Girl here. Did you hear the news? Did you hear her voice? Oh, Triple J., how does it feel to witness a sophomore ace the french class you all care so much about? Call it a statement of power. Looks like Kim Yerim won’t stay lonely any longer! May the best J. win!  
>  XOXO - GG_
> 
> _p.s.: any nickname suggestion?_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at!!!!! long!!!!! last!!!!!!  
> enjoy this dump of words, gracias

_Constance’s bathrooms are dangerous places._ So were the first words Yerim wrote down in the new translucid binder she had gotten herself right before the school year which she had decided she would solely dedicate to Constance and its peculiar characters. You never wished to hang out there—particularly if your eyes were puffy, full of burning tears and regrets: you never wished to cross the path of someone you didn’t know enough or knew way too well.

_ When in need to go to the bathroom, be fast. _ Chaeyoung had warned her a few days into the term, bathrooms were vicious as hell—you could easily become a toy there, and end up welcomed in the wrong gracious hands. Phones and cameras would be on, flashes would be ready, ears would be wide opened. 

The knives were out. 

Yerim pushed the door of the main bathroom of their aisle—uniform on—her K ånken (the only one spotted on campus) covered in pins and embroidery on her shoulder. The morning sunlight was already peeking through the various windows of the building, whether it was in the corridors or the dining hall and the bathrooms were no exception: a warm ray of light caressed the pastel tiles and her pale skin as she walked over them, making her way to the sinks. The water escaping from the tap was beyond cold, waking her senses up. The soap , slimy, was of cool shade and always foamed too fast—mainly because Yerim always put too much and perpetually struggled to allow the right amount to end up in her palms. Once rinsed, they’re pressed against her blushed cheeks, massaging them lightly—they would always get a little red before french class. (She guessed it was Sooyoung’s effect but preferred saying it was the adrenaline rush from being late—although she never was—that drove her face pink.)

Her reflection in the mirror was satisfying that day. She enjoyed the view and was proud of herself for making it through her classes and finding her way in such a venomous setting. She still believed she was out of place at times—her lack of luxury acquaintances had yet not to be thrown in her face—and perhaps she would always be an outsider in those infinite corridors, but the least she could do was camouflage.

She brought her hands to the front pocket of her backpack, looking for her headphones—there was maybe enough time for her to plug them in and listen to Selene one last time before french class—but as she did, the door was slammed open. 

She jolted, turned to her right, a furious (and teary?) silhouette making her entrance in the room. 

Roséanne. 

Her eyes were puffy, red—really red—and her face almost looked miserable under her dark bangs. Mortified, she stayed behind the sink, suddenly unable to function. 

_ You should go. You should head to class, you’re clearly not meant to be here.  _

Roséanne’s heavy sobs filled the bathroom, the tears wouldn’t stop falling from her eyes, ruining whatever makeup she had put on before leaving her room. 

_ Go. Leave the bathroom. _

Their eyes eventually met through the glass. Yerim could feel her throat tighten as they did—one thing she had yet to accustom herself to was how fast the pressure and the stress could grow at Constance. 

“Could you-...” Roséanne started. 

Yerim, at last, moved back towards the door. 

“I’ll leave, sorry—” she mumbled, exiting the bathroom so quickly she never got to hear Roséanne’s possible answer—but she didn’t have time anyway. 

She plugged in her headphones, as originally planned and headed towards her french class, crossing corridor after corridor, stepping onto the cold marble steps.

_ She’s taken over _

_ She’s making me want your body closer _

_ Having a little trouble staying sober _

The Class aisle was full of students, pretty girls in dark pleated skirts, holding their latest designer bags—a cloud of fragrance emanated from them, and it was heavy, intoxicating, and could make her feel dizzy if she focused on it a little too much. But the music which got to her ears was good enough of a distraction. 

_ And I couldn’t care less (Uh) _

_ I couldn’t care less, baby _

The chorus hit and her surroundings felt dreamy again. From afar she could spot her seniors from french class, chit-chatting loudly, exaggerated laughs escaping their tinted lips. Before them, Jisoo, worriedly typing on her phone, looking away from the screen every two words. 

_ And oh she’s bubbling up again, and I do as _ _ — _

She let the music run through her headphones as she made her way towards the senior, not thinking her action twice, surprisingly. 

“Oh, Jisoo!” The senior looked up instantly at the sound of her name. She could already sense some other seniors looking at her—she rarely ever talked to any of them (with the exception of Sooyoung when she sat next to her) and never with such energy and enthusiasm. “Roséanne was looking for you, I don’t think she noticed you leaving, she was still around the dorms when I left.” 

“Is she? How come she isn’t answering?” her eyes were suspicious, which Yerim purposely ignored, not done with the act she was pulling just yet. 

“Ah… Her phone ran out of battery… she forgot to plug it in last night. You should go fetch her before class starts, otherwise, she’ll be late.” 

Jisoo’s face relaxed at her words and with a quick “thanks” and a bright smile—the typical Constance/Colgate smile, but make it genuine—she ran towards the other end of the corridor. 

It didn’t take too long before her eyes fell on Sooyoung. Her back was against the wall, hair untied, falling onto the book she was immersed in—a copy of A Midsummer’s Night Dream she had to study for the drama club’s upcoming audition. 

She plugged her headphones back in. 

_ May be losing all my self-control _

_ And I couldn’t care less (Uh) _

_ I couldn’t care less, baby _

_ Feeling just a little careless lately _

Whenever Yerim thought of Sooyoung, she found it harder and harder not to think of her lips and how incredibly sweet they’d feel on hers—she tried to focus on other traits of hers such as her hair, how smooth it appears under the sunlight, and how lucky she’d be to get to play with it, her eyes—a pair of deep dark pupils—in which she fell each time their stares would meet, and her face, round and comforting, full of dreams, joy, and love. 

It always felt nicer when she thought of her lips however—they were a trap Yerim knew she’d fall in naively, too captured by the girl’s aura and moves. She found it highly enjoyable for whatever masochist reason to play the same scenario endlessly in her head: her body crushed between Sooyoung’s and the wall of the main lodge of the drama club. They’re both breathless in her dreams, desperately trying to have a better taste of each other’s lips, hands cupping the other’s face—a proof of love and unrequited feelings was what these daydreams were. 

She never pressed pause after the first song. 

_ Waves of sound, sea of sharks _

_ Catch you off your guppy guard _

The bell rang, doors opened themselves, teachers made their entrance, the prep girls followed. 

Their eyes met. She smiled. So did Yerim. 

_ Glossy lips, lavish lies _

_ Before you trust anybody think twice _

And then, they made their way to class. 

French classes always went atrociously slow when Sooyoung sat next to B.—Yerim would end up alone with her binders and pastel highlighters, losing herself in Rimbaud’s poems and other french classics they were given to read. She was still an outsider after all and although she had retained the number one survival rule of the elite boarding school: ‘ _ Think less, act more—but always listen’,  _ she struggled to act. Staying as an observer, as a lens, was a far more interesting perspective. 

Ahead of her: Constance’s  _ crème de la crème _ . Jihyo, Jennie, Joohyun. Their acolytes: Lisa, Seungwan, Sooyoung, Mina. At the back, both the total outcast and one of Constance’s players: Roséanne and Jisoo. Roséanne’s face was impeccable as she entered the classroom, smiling and bowing slightly as she saluted their professor as if what happened in the bathroom earlier had never taken place. 

And then, Yerim. 

Lonely Girl.

She couldn’t quite tell up until that day what kind of image she wanted to have at Constance—in fact, image and appearance hadn’t been much of a big deal until her transfer, which made her question if worrying about it as much as she did was truly worth it. 

But how would people notice her worth if she stayed  _ effacée _ ?

Her eyes stopped at Sooyoung’s hair—ever so impeccable, soft, and smooth as always. She didn’t want to wait another hour for their eyes to meet again.  _ Why wait and observe when you can act? _

“ _ Quelqu’un pour lire le paragraphe? _ Anyone?”

She looked again. Joohyun, and Jihyo’s hands were already up and steady. 

Then, without a doubt, raised hers. 

“Yerim? Alright, go ahead,  _ nous t’écoutons _ .”

All ears on her.

* * *

  
  


> _ Good morning my dear little socialites, Gossip Girl here. Did you hear the news? Did you hear  _ her  _ voice? Oh, Triple J., how does it feel to witness a sophomore ace the french class you all care so much about? Call it a statement of power. Looks like Kim Yerim won’t stay lonely any longer! May the best J. win!  _
> 
> _ xoxo _
> 
> _ Gossip Girl _
> 
> _ p.s.: any nickname suggestion?  _

“I can’t believe it, your first Gossip Girl post! This is huge!” 

Yerim could feel her phone buzzing in the right pocket of her jacket—she already knew it was both Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, most likely trying to understand what on earth happened while they were away from one another. 

“Does it  _ seriously  _ have to be this dramatic? I only read—”

“You read in front of a dozen seniors who consider this class as their little hidden gem, Kim Yerim, you asserted yourself right in front of them—… God, you should have seen B.’s face, it was quite the show.” 

Hearing Sooyoung’s lips strongly emphasise her name definitely made her feel some kind of way yet she couldn’t properly name it—what was it again? 

She could feel butterflies fluttering their colourful wings deep in her stomach. How was she meant to explain to her senior that she only raised her hand to get her attention? That she wanted her to focus on her voice and only her voice for a couple of lines. She wasn’t asking for too much—her demand was far from being excessive or desperate. She wished for a diversion, for entertainment and there she was, hair smooth and shiny as ever, arm linked with hers as she held her cell, lurking through their school’s infamous gossip blog posts. 

Was there a next move? Yerim wondered for a while. She couldn’t tell what she wanted out of this: their exchanged looks and laughs, their small conversations between a few remarks from their prof, the time spent in the same spaces, a few feet away from one another, observant… She knew she wanted more but had no idea how to express it. 

“Say, Yerim… You’ve planned to go to Halloween’s yule ball, haven’t—”

“Of course she is, no ‘freshman’ would want to miss such an event—especially when you know who spent so much time perfecting its organisation, right S.?”

Yerim jolted in surprise—there she was, standing perfectly still, designer items decorating her fit silhouette, arm linked with none other than Jennie Kim’s. 

B. and Little J. 

It only took a few days for Yerim to fully grasp their persona and the peculiar hierarchy they had seemingly worked so hard to build and maintain as such. According to Chaeyoung, no excessive digging through Gossip Girl was required to process their dynamic nor the rules along which they played. Constance was nothing but a massive playground for them—a chess board if you will, where checkmate as the most avoided move. “To assert your dominance, you should perpetuate the tension between each player. There’s no point if the game’s over.” She recalled her roommates’ words—a quote from B. herself according to many.

Mesmerised by both seniors’ strong charismas, Yerim never noticed how Sooyoung had let go of her arm as soon as they had popped their bubble. 

“It’s such a pity you’re so busy with your audition—the student committee would have definitely needed a few more it-girls… Ah, such a shame… You’re still my pair though, right? Nini will go with Lisa—her Chanel gown doesn’t match mine one bit.” 

Sooyoung appeared unbothered, sitting on the gardens’ low worries, thighs still brushing against Yerim’s. Her eyes went straight onto Jennie’s—as if about to hurt. Yerim could picture it: the dagger she held right then, enlightening and coming for blood.

Hopefully, she won’t get cut if she wished to get close. 

“I guess you’re not going with Roséanne this time around, are you Little J.?”

Jennie blushed hard—more of anger than embarrassment—her face circled by her straight dark locks. 

“Trust me, I have a much better pair than this cunt.” 

The wording was harsh. Disproportionate. Most likely unnecessary. Judging from Roséanne’s earlier tears, undeserved.

Joohyun rolled her eyes. 

“How sweet of you to check on your friends in such considerate ways S.! You’ll be so remembered for your kindness in the years to come, right Nini?” 

“Damn straight.” 

With another icy stare, they left, shiny black heels hitting the ground at the exact same pace. 

“This is such a joke—…” 

The anger in Sooyoung’s eyes was palpable. It was an expensive kind of anger—the one you could only afford if your feet are comfortably laying in a pair of Prada shoes matching with whatever designer bag portrayed your mood the best that day. 

“They were almost about to jump on one another’s throat last week—Joohyun is a fucking hypocrite.” 

Yerim stayed quiet. There wasn’t much to say: “Sorry”? “You’re so right”? “You deserve much better friends”?

“I’m really close to ask Seulgi out just to piss her off at this point—I can’t do this anymore—if you refuse to not aggressively assert yourself and impose yourself to her… She’ll keep on stepping on you and nibbling your life until you forget who you are.” 

“Isn’t that harsh?”  _ Why ask Seulgi when I was right here? _

Sooyoung sighed and turned to her junior. Her face seemed too far away from hers and Yerim despised it.

“Never be afraid to be harsh with the people who harm you. That’s what my mum always told me. Sometimes you gotta attack. That’s just how it is.” 

Yerim nodded. She hated being harsh. She hated the idea of harming others simply because they had hurt you first. The concept of revenge was so foreign to her she couldn’t even picture how one of hers would eventually look like. She believed in being direct with others, in coming forward—how could one have the energy to constantly fight?

There it was, Constance’s mentality. An eternal deadly battle between the toxic prep girls, each of them armed with their most valued luxury, ready to kill.  _ Prêtes à en découdre. _

“Your knives should always be out around here. You don’t want to get too hurt.” 

Sooyoung’s fingers landed on Yerim’s round cheek. She smiled, weakly. Her eyes were shining through hers, suddenly filled with water that would soon enough fall down her face. 

  
  


* * *

> **From:** sooyoung <3
> 
> _ they dropped like Flakes — _
> 
> _ they dropped likes stars — _

“She really gotcha smiling, doesn’t she?” 

“Huh?” 

Chaeyoung sighed. Tzuyu had already dived in her bed, face barely visible behind the immense book she had vigorously been for a couple of days then—their dorm was only lit by Yerim’s salt lamp, surprisingly the girls’ most treasured possession. A comforting nuancé of orange and pink covered the walls and the ceiling above them, breaking the tense and cold ambiance of the corridors. Yerim’s fingers stood perfectly still, locked on her phone’s screen, stopping her from typing another verse of poetry she had desperately tried to remember over the course of the day to send it off. 

“Not to be particularly pushy but you’ve been smiling so much it looks like your cheeks are about to explode. In a lesbian kind of way.” She paused. “If that makes any kind of sense.” 

Yerim bit her lip. Her cheeks were burning—too much, it was already too much and it had barely been weeks—and maybe Chaeyoung was right, maybe she was about to explode and maybe—

“parksooyoung —itsparksooyoung—” She mumbled terribly. 

“Right, whatever you say—” 

“Park Sooyoung. S. Joy. Or whatever you call her.” 

There was a sudden silence—the expected yet unexpected kind of one which led the fire in Yerim’s cheeks to blaze her face even more. 

If only she had never set a single foot at Constance’s none of this would have had ever happened— 

“Kim Yerim—… you…” But she stopped herself because she could let her thoughts take over her mouth. “Do you have any idea of what you got yourself into? Do you realise this—this kind of—whatever this is, right—is not allowed?” She breathed. “ _ Do you have a death wish Kim Yerim? _ ”

She sighed. She most likely did. 

* * *

  
  


a non-exhaustive list of things you should do asap: 

  * change her nickname from ur phone (no more sooyoung <3, s. uwu or whatever the heck) 
  * only publicly sit next to her or talk to her to address school related things (no more highlighter play, no more doodling on her classes or whatever you think flirting is)
  * and for the love of god, stop looking at her like she’s the goddamn sun, we have midterms coming up



a short list of things you can still do: 

  * attempt at flirting with her by answering her texts with nothing but quotes from shakespeare, emily dickinson or whatever sapphic song you’ve been playing on repeat



Yerim looked at the wrinkled paper her roommate had handed her the next day—she had bitten her lower lip so many times it was swollen a little bloody, guilty of her feelings. Her eyes became heavier with bullet point—she could feel the weight of Gossip Girl, B., and Little J. on her shoulders and shrink her already small stature. She despised it, all of it. The rules, the dos, the don’ts. 

"Please trust me when I tell you this is for your own good."

She sighed. She truly wished for a freedom she could not afford. 

* * *

Audition day began with a mixture of overexcitement, hormones, and euphoria. Phones would buzz more frequently than ever—it had become impossible to avoid Gossip Girl’s continuous updates along with the numerous pictures of St Jude’s boys submitted to the blog and shared from a phone to another. There was so much desire, so much envy, an impatient need to see everything, to interact with men that Yerim soon felt dizzy—she couldn’t stand the constant girly boy chat and how oppressive it was. Lucky for her, she wasn’t the only one sharing the idea—Jeongyeon pestered constantly and reprimanded all conversations that would rotate too much around boys that couldn’t be any less interested. 

“Would you mind not speaking for a minute or two? This is too much comphet for me to handle.” 

From across the dining hall, Yerim found her senior’s words surprisingly comforting. Why focus on men whose faces they only ever got to witness through their socials when some of the most beautiful girls ever were right before their eyes? A light smile had spread itself on her round face as her pupils lost themselves in Jeongyeon’s dramatic performance which had clearly made her forget to review her lines a few last times before the audition. Their eyes eventually met—the senior smirked as if she needed no words to understand the younger’s smile. 

Their quiet exchange was interrupted when Jihyo walked towards her friend’s table, hiding her silhouette as she handed a few stacks of paper that Jeongyeon had seemingly forgotten back in the dorms. 

As to punctuate the scene, Yerim’s phone buzzed frantically against the wooden table behind which she sat. 

> **From:** sooyoung <3 
> 
> _ mornings without you is a dwindled dawn _
> 
> (i really really miss french class rn)

Her fingers wasted no time to come up with an answer. 

> **To:** sooyoung <3 
> 
> _ bring me the sunset in a cup _ then? 
> 
> (you’ve got this no worries!! i believe in you, i’m sure you’ll do well) 

She inhaled. 

She really hoped she was right. 

* * *

As the day got pretty agitated, she turned off her phone: to her luck, Gossip Girl’s uploading schedule had quickly turned into online harassment. When their day finally came to an end, her classmates were exhausted—to Yerim’s greatest pleasure, none of the boys they had desperately wished to encounter had broken Mrs Wang’s golden rule to run into them. 

Her phone back on again, she discovered the few unexpected messages sent by Jisoo—most likely after her audition.

> **From:** _ unknown _
> 
> Hey, it’s Jisoo. I never got to thank you for not saying a thing about what you saw in the bathroom the other day. Most of the girls would have already gone to gossip girl to have an ounce of fame but you didn’t. 

> **From:** _ unknown _
> 
> I truly appreciate it. It’s been hard for Rosé lately, gg doesn’t make things any less easy. 

> **From:** _ unknown _
> 
> It’s nice once in a while to come across someone who doesn’t play along with the rules. Thanks a lot, Yerim. 

Mouth slightly opened, she wondered what she could possibly answer. There was too much she didn’t know and too much she would most likely  _ never  _ uncover. 

She looked blankly at her phone while her fingers were still waiting for her to give them a way to go. 

_ Unless…? _

> **From:** sooyoung <3
> 
> it went so well!!! aaaaaaaaa!!!!!! je t'aime <3

* * *

> _ Attention girls -- while you wait to hear the results of our girls' auditions, remember Halloween ball is upon us! Have you chosen your gown yet? Queen B. and Mina made it clear: by tonight you’ll turn into either sweet angels or glamourous devils. Has any of you found their Ju(de)liet? Don’t forget to bring your bestest tricks!  _
> 
> _ XOXO - Gossip Girl _

Yerim had inspected her reflection in Constance’s mirrors too many times. She had swirled again and again in front of the glass of the empty bathroom, checked the shade of her lipstick over and over—a dark shade of purple which probably darkened her look even more but it seemed fitting. She hadn’t done much to her hair, allowing it to rest on her shoulders. As she looked in the mirror again she almost thought she belonged there—she belonged in Constance, in ways she hadn’t considered up until then. She was craving for the attention they all gave such massive importance to and surprisingly, she hoped she’d get to touch an ounce of the power they all held vigorously.

As she walked through the yule ball’s entrance, a black swan beyond dozens of fake angels, she realised what she wanted. 

She wanted to take their it-girl with her, their most precious stone, their treasured princess. She wanted to take B.’s crown with her. Whatever that meant. 

Her thoughts were soon shrunk by the thundering music—she made her way through the crowd of loud and euphoric prep girls who had in a matter of a couple of hours turned into grown women. Beyond them: a few boys from St Jude who had made it without causing any sort of trouble, and Chaeyoung and Tzuyu in matching dark dresses, eyes covered with heavy black crayon and a bit of glitter to finish the look, with what seemed to be coupes of alcohol-free champagne in hands. 

“Where have you been?! You’ve literally missed all the most important entrances—gosh I really can’t believe you—couldn’t you be on time?” Chae almost yelled in her ear handing her a glass of the same shiny drink.

She was pretty sure she could see Tzuyu’s lips moving—she couldn’t quite tell the words apart.

After an hour or two, time went by faster. Everything was very sudden—as sudden as Sooyoung’s impromptu morning texts, but simply not as bright.

The lights went off and so did the music. The loud electro-pop music abruptly stopped mid-chorus, intriguing the mini-socialites whose voices and concerns grew louder. A few of them screamed as the ball turned a little too dark for a Halloween party which was nothing more than a showcase of each organiser’s powers and skills. 

Among the various high pitched concerns, B., furious. How dared they turn the lights off? How dared they ruin her Curriculum Vitae—again—right below her eyes? 

A few seconds passed without the sign of a flashlight—they had promised B. they wouldn’t let social medias spoil their evening, they had signed the same contract, they had made an oath. 

When they finally heard  _ it _ , it was too late to waste time wondering what they were witnessing. It had happened, a few feet from them, away from the glued stacks of prep girls disguised in ridiculously expensive gowns. The luckiests ran into the arms of the closest Jude boy they had interacted with, both terrified and desperate to see an ounce of dangerous romance bloom. 

The lights came back before they could even put a name on the eccentric yet familiar sounds their ornamented ears had noticed. 

A few gasps. Palms were brought to the suddenly atrociously pale faces. Eyes round, they stayed still, perhaps horrified by the bloody frame their eyes had brought them. If you looked well enough, you would have spotted some smiles, the jubilant kinds, which belonged to the vilest of them. 

They observed the scene for as long as they could. There was a disturbing stillness, one they couldn’t stand. They wondered a lot. Pondered each of their inquiries. What, why, how. “I’m  _ so  _ confused—what did she even do this time?” a brunette whispered to her just as lost friend. 

Roséanne, however, wasn’t so confused. 

When the bright red syrup hit her hair, when it asserted itself on her face, moving slow, when it got below her eyelids and attacked her skin, and when it finally ruined her old yet impeccable white dress, she knew. She knew and she understood, in fact, she had understood weeks ago, way before the new term had begun, way before they had settled in their immaculate dorms again. But They wanted more. It was never enough for them, was it? It didn’t matter that she understood, it didn’t matter that she knew. What mattered was that she paid, endlessly, until her very last days of high school—or her very last breaths, which in her case, seemed to be closer than she thought. 

A bucket followed the fake blood irregular flow, hitting the top of her head first before rolling on the ground, at her feet. It was quite a simple bucket. A product of randomness. Nothing extravagant. If anything, it looked out of place in the glossy and shiny ball. 

Behind her was Yerim, eyes filled with sudden rage and anger as soon as she saw the syrup drip down the white gown. As soon as she heard Joohyun and Jennie’s shocked and jubilant gasps when the bucket hit the marble floor, she knew none of them had written the scene played below their eyes. They played along—who cared who had caused such a fuss? The bucket had come as a miracle, it had happened for their own pleasure, and gosh, were they euphoric. While Jennie’s smile kept on growing as she contemplated the feast which had been prepared for her— _ La revenge est un plat qui se mange froid _ , as they say—Joohyun expressed the victory of a battle she hadn’t fought one bit.

Time flew by a little too quickly once they finally collected their minds—their perverse contemplation of their humiliated classmate had to come to an end before any member of the staff discovered how bloody their small Halloween party had become. 

“Well? Rosie? Aren’t you going to thank us for adding some spice and colour to your bland outdated… dress? You do realise we made you a massive favour, right? Rosie?” 

Rosé left the ball running as if to punctuate Joohyun’s bitchy words. They all heard her sobbing and coughing in between two breaths but refused to do a thing for an instant. 

Then, they all got moving. 

Yerim was trying her best to capture it all but there was too much—too many characters, too many plotlines she hadn’t had the time to get a grasp of, too many unreciprocated feelings. She saw Sooyoung, dozens of feet away from Joohyun, mad. Disgusted. Hateful. Atrociously mad yet ethereal and Yerim hated herself for thinking so. 

Sooyoung grabbed someone’s hand from behind and walked towards the center of the room where a puddle of syrup resided. They couldn’t quite see whose delicate palm she had chosen for a fraction of time. But then they did. They all did.

Seulgi was the least shocked of them all—as if she expected it or maybe her expectations were already that low when it came to Joohyun. They crossed the hall, eyes on Joohyun—Sooyoung was tearing up. 

Joohyun’s smile dropped and Yerim’s heart sunk so deep in her chest she thought she was going to faint. They were so mesmerised and hurt by their walk none of them noticed Jisoo was walking dangerously towards B., a glass of sparkling water in hand, under Jihyo’s suspicious gaze.

The water thrown to her face was quite the hit. They all stopped, gasped again, before running to her making sure their beloved queen was well. The rumour had it Jisoo had whispered some atrocious comments to their icon—she had been beyond disrespectful yet no one stopped her as she made her way out of the ball. 

The rumour had it Jisoo had called her names Joohyun’d rather forget. 

Yerim looked around.

A cold breeze made its entrance in the ballroom, wrapping the extravagant collection of preppy girls in bitterness. 

> _ Happy Sweet Halloween my dears! Like all good things witching hours must come to an end -- treats were turned into tricks and tricks into treats. Perhaps taking off your gowns won’t be as fun as putting them on this time around but this is what you get when you play with maple and knives.  _
> 
> _ XOXO - Gossip Girl _

**_END OF ACT I_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I'll apologise enough for the delay, surprisingly this chapter took ages to finish and although it isn't as long as I had first pictured, it definitely has everything it needed to close this first act.  
> If you've made it this far: thank you!!! This fic still means a lot to me, even after all these months! My posting schedule may not be the best but I am determined to keep things going.  
> Wherever you are, I hope you enjoyed this (and that it wasn't too confusing??) -- please do not hesitate to share your thoughts with me, it is always very much appreciated.  
> Much, much love.  
> xoxo -- Kit.
> 
> p.s.: you can also come say hi on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/kittog__)! i also have [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/kittog) where you can ask me anything or drop a request!


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